LOVE, PEACE & WAR
by chibigurl305
Summary: Aliases, immortals, deception, murders and a horrible covert industry  so huge and powerful, it controls the entire world! Whoa, what is going on here? Chaotic   mult-crossover with a plot. Full summary inside. Rated T for language and some  bloodshed.
1. Chapter Un

**-LOVE, PEACE & WAR-**

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_It seems like immortality is real. And, immortal life is possible._

_Furthermore, the frantic hunt and protection over the secret of immortality continues today- chaotically, violently, and all around the world, and yet absolutely shrouded in mystery inside the silhouetted world of the Mafia._

_But amidst the maddening 300 hundred-year-old secret conflict, some of the immortal Alchemists from 1711 Europe are up to no-good with their own personal demons and corrupted agendas during their time watching the all corners of the world around them, especially the parts shrouded by mystery, change drastically._

By: chibigurl305

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**The **_**REAL**_** Summary**_**-**_ (I apologize for the length- it's actually pretty necessary)

One particular maid that works for the Vongola mafia family's great assassination squad, the Varia, goes to Ouran Academy; the learning sanctuary for the rich and powerful, for a Varia mission that's non-Mafia related (weirdly enough). But, while attending one of the most elite schools in Japan, she also attends a series of fights to the death at night to… serve wine to a Mafia Boss candidate in a room with a giant wall-sized TV?

The weirdness doesn't stop there; the Host Club decides to live 'the commoner life' after accepting another female, commoner, and non-customer friend. (How else will those ridiculously good looking teens supposed to win Haruhi's heart?)… So (insert: Tamaki's idea) they leave to Namimori Japan for a commoner-school exchange program made for bored filthy-rich students! But that's not good considering the school they're going to. You know that one school where the biggest Mafia members and hit-men are hanging out at for some reason. (By the way, is it a good idea to have loud, obnoxious rich people around Hibari? Probably not...)

But yet, the madness doesn't stop even there! - Immortals. Bored, insane, twisted and absolutely inhumane immortals are beginning to change and tamper with the world they're seen grow into a moral-less human-wasteland over the course of ninety-something years. Some immortals have world domination on their minds and some, a second Holocaust on theirs. And did I mention one immortal in particular has an army over a hundred of very loyal… 'non-human' help?

Can and will everyone survive this ancient chaos that's pouring into their everyday lives?

We can only hope, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

"When life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile."

– _By; Unknown Author_

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Pairings**_- Idk, like maybe 80XOC or XxOC… 1827, R69, 0080, wtf! Pfft, like I actually know! XD I'll look at the suggestions in comments or reviews._

**Characters**_- Varia, Vongola gang, Ouran people, and some Baccano cast (you don't need to know this anime to read this Fanfiction… but you do need to watch it for its awesomeness). YES, THREE WORLDS CLASHING! THIS IS GOING TO BE CHAOTIC!_

**Warnings**_- an 'sort of' AU, defiantly some OCs; the central ones are Clara and Ciel (both girls) any others will be added with no warning. Bad language, dirty jokes, ripping on European, Japanese and American people and racial slurs, horrible treatment on Humanity and human rights will be included in this dark-ish fic (but it'll lighten and darken up like a rollercoaster of bipolar-ness). _

_**DISCLAIMER; I OWN NOTHING OF EVERYTHING MENTIONED IN THIS STORY, EXCEPT MY EMOTIONS, MY CHARACTERS, MY JOKES AND MY PARTICAL RACISM!**_

_And if you're still reading this, you're very patient and kind!_

_Ok, let's get this show going! Cue lights! Camera! ACTION!_

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Chapter One: In Which Normality Turn Into Unusual Problems for the Most Serene**

A girl with neck length black, disheveled hair that covered the top part of her face sighed heavily as she rushed through the halls of a mansion that she called home. A very big (BIG!) mansion. Was she rich? HELL NO! If the girl ever had the actual chance, she'd laugh at the irony of it all.

At her situation, that is.

Yes, she lived in a mansion (… that… belongs to someone else…). She is one of the many house-staff that worked hard, and with her own life on the line, to make sure to serve the occupants of the mansion with excellent service. And also help make sure that the mansion isn't reduced to charcoal and rubble by the end of the day.

Or be killed be the many homicidal occupants of the house. Which-ever comes first.

(It's like a 'clean or be killed on the spot' kind of game of fun-ness! Not!)

Anyway, rushing through the beautiful mansion diligently, the girl made her way to a large towering old Italian/Victorian era door that was admittedly breathe-taking; the _**slightly **_muffled shouting from the other side of the ostentatious door- not so beautiful. The girl straightened her posture and shifted the unopened tequila bottle in her hands so that it, and also herself looked presentable- if not graceful.

The girl even went out of her way or ironing her dark blue maid uniform into crisp perfection- it's a 'prideful worker' thing, don't judge her! (Even though in the rush of doing so, forgot to comb her hair.) She just doesn't want to get fired today, or the next day or any other day- despite that the job sucks.

But she'll endure it! (Like she even has a choice).

Gathering imaginary bravery, Clara walks into the room. The moment Clara pushes the door open, the shouting immediately intensifying to the point where Clara physically winced. Crisp sounds of things being violently broken reached the maid's ears, with almost inhumanly loud shouting echoes off the walls in the ostentatious room and into the empty hallways (and they're empty for a good reason). There's no one to help this Maid with the people inside that Victorian-Italian room.

In the face of utter madness, Clara ventures into the room.

The maid kept her eyes to the ground, so hopefully she won't be noticed or included in the fight that destroyed the relatively classy Victorian room which had mahogany wall paper and dark-wood floor. The rather pretentious room even was lighted by a brilliantly glistening crystal chandelier, which is never used for 'good' purposes.

(Ex, Such as using the expensive decoration as a weapon, using the shards to stab, tying people by the neck to the chandelier to swing around mercilessly, etc…)

Clara made her way against the opposite wall from the other side of the room where the fight took place, and made sure to not to be noticed. Her messy black hair helps her to hide her face. Unfortunately, it also makes a lot of blind spots in the maid's line of vision.

The maid barely saw it coming as she narrowly dodged a dark green bottle that was thrown to the right of her head and exploded on the wall. The pieces of glass scattered to the (also very) expensive floor behind her, sprinkling shards that rained down on Clara's calves that were luckily covered in protective in dark tights. Clara held back the urge to cover her face protectively in fear of another random bottle ricocheting towards her from the fight in front of her, and to run out of the war zone of a room. But she has a job to do. A _SUCKY_ job, but _HER_ job.

"Bring the boos to the boss, bring the boos to the boss, bring the boos to the boss," Clara chanted inside her head as she made her way, dodging random bits of up-turned and or broken furniture, bottles, knives, and food that was thrown in all directions of the room. Clara couldn't help but to notice that the things thrown in her direction were bigger and sharper than the objects thrown on the opposite side of the room.

Awesome, yeah! - go on and hate on the maid, _**whatever!**_

Amidst out from the random fight, an aqua-marine haired boy was chucked in her direction and ended up landing and breaking what _was_ an unharmed couch in front of her. The couch was thrusted backwards on impact, tipping the piece of furniture backwards as he rolled back with it. The green-blue haired boy ended up lying down and staring upwards at the ceiling. He seemed fine, but with a very emotionless look on his face (… and are those blue triangles under his eyes?). Poor thing. He's probably in shock! Giving the poor new recruit a sympatric stare, Clara goes on with her job without helping him up. (Boss doesn't like kindness… or human sympathy in general).

"Why aren't rich people nice or polite anymore? Whatever happened to _**these people's**_ manners?" Clara wondered to herself as she briefly glimpsed at the room that torn apart, even though it was repaired two hours ago. Clara suddenly feels like she should make sure not to complain about her job in front of the carpenters that also lived and _**worked**_ in the madhouse of a mansion.

As she just got out of range of the chaotic fight, Clara then spots a familiar patch of black hair and a slight murderous aura on the other side of the room that choked the innocence of being in mansion quite effectively. And relief floods her soul. "I CAN GET OUT OF THIS ROOM IN JUST A FEW MORE MOMENTS! YES!" Clara cheers inside of her head. Her body floods with a victorious feeling that hides itself on her French-ly calm face.

Pulling out a clean crystal drinking cup from her large front pockets of her maid's uniform, Clara makes her way to her destination. Clara noticed her boss's throne chair was positioned as if he wanted to see the fight of his two subordinates, but Clara highly doubted that was the case. She knew Boss doesn't give a damn, one way or another, about his subordinates. He probably is too lazy to move his chair, and is waiting to shoot the first unlucky person to chuck something in his direction.

"All the reason to get the boss drunk, so his aim is remains exactly the same," Clara good naturedly makes a dark joke inside of her head (that's way too true for her own safety). It's one of the few ways to find peace in _this_ mansion.

Clara finally makes it to the side of Xanxus's chair and sets the cup on the arm-rest on his chair. "Would you like some more to drink, sir?" Clara asked, holding out the bottle of tequila.

Her boss, Xanxus, looks up boredly from the border-line homicide of a fight between subordinates in front of him and glances at his bar-maid with a cold look with difference. Well, not completely cold; almost the opposite, really. Clara noted that her boss's eyes are a delightful shade of murder, blood, flames of hell… ECT – 'a warm scarlet red'.

While looking at her boss's calm face, Xanxus suddenly swiped the full glass bottle from Clara and chucked it at his poor second in command.

That, at least, got Squalo to stop fighting with the other Varia member, Prince Bel.

Clara blinked for a moment to process what happened, before realizing by the missing weight in her hand that the action took place at an inhuman speed. She then wondered if her boss was going to reach for something else to throw, seeing his second in command stand right up after the attack to start yelling profanities at the fearsome boss.

_How has he not died yet, anyway? _, Clara wondered.

It must be some sort of special blessing that Squalo was born with. The blessing may save Squalo from dying, but it doesn't stop him from getting hurt, like some sort of incomplete immortality (even though Clara knows this is not the case). Xanxus glared full-throttle at his second-in-command. He looked ready to throw the nearest chair/bolder/mansion staff at the white-haired assassin and co-worker (That's never a good combination…).

Not wanting to be thrown herself, Clara grabs the unharmed crystal bottle from Xanxus's side and holds it in her other hand not in a gesture, but modestly in her boss's view. He should at least know that he doesn't have to throw _this particular maid_. There's plenty of willing staff elsewhere in this mansion! (Well, not _willing, _but there are definitely more, weaker and older maids. And butlers! There's plenty of butlers too.)

"Don't throw me, don't throw me, don't throw me" Clara prayed inside her head, almost out-loud. The maid's face shifted to a look of discontent as bad memories replaying inside of the Maid's mind;

Once, while on the job, Clara was thrown.

It was **not** fun.

"Get me some red wine. And send someone to clean this mess, trash." her boss dismissed the French Maid in his commanding, deep, and intimidating voice. His voice never vibrated nor did her boss open his mouth wide while speaking, indicating that he wasn't yelling, but rather his voice is very (freakin') loud. Without ever trying, he gives the same frightening feeling of being yelled at. That's just how scary this man is.

Clara could only nod and rush a "Yes sir" before weaving her way through the chunks of broken furniture and glass that littered the floor, to the highly awaited door. "DOOR! DOOR! DOOR!" Clara nearly shook in anticipation to get out away from the Varia and her fearsome boss, if it wasn't for her French pride. Despite her stubbornness to show fear, Clara knows he isn't in a good mood- not like he's ever in a good mood. (When Xanxus wastes a full bottle of alcohol to throw someone, you know he's pissed).

Clara managed to inform the (pissed off, but too scared to do or say anything about it) carpenters and maids, and get Xanxus's wine in a record time; forty-two seconds! Clara knew it wasn't a household record, but it's a nice boost to Clara's (dying, rotting, semi-corpse of what used to be a) ego. Xanxus seemed pleased (meaning, he didn't threaten to or kill her, nor break the bottle with Squalo's forehead.) by her choice of wine, Chateauneuf du Pape Clos des Papes (it was the most expensive wine she could find in the wine cellar), since he never specified what he wanted. But, the job is done, and Clara is not dead (_Yet_).

And so Clara finished sweeping the foyer of the mansion, on the west wing of the mansion, and then helped with the kitchen staff by cleaning stoves and loading dishwashers before she made a run for it to her tiny room on the opposite side of the Varia estate, since her job for the day is done. Clara's Maid-duties were to bring Xanxus alcohol, and help clean. The French maid has her schedule down on a dime. She knew Xanxus's limit is three large bottles of hard alcohol a day and after she delivered bottle number three and her cleaning chores were done, Clara didn't waste any time rushing back to the safety of her room, the door closing with a semi-reassuring 'click' of the door lock. SAFE!

Well, not completely safe… whenever one of the Varia come within fifty feet of her room, then it's about as safe as a drunk Yankees fan at Fenway Park. (For those of you who don't know baseball, a drunk Yankees fan + Fenway Park with Red Sox fans = fight/knifing and or a riot… vice versa)

Yupp. Never, ever safe. EVER!

In fact, her safety level is about at 2.4% at all times. This is because she sees the Varia regularly, everyday. This is sort of weird… You would think that a team of seven people can't show up twice in a mansion the size of the one Clara is in one day, right? WELL, YOU'RE WRONG.

The Varia found a way, _**they found a way**_**.**

Clara pushed that lost thought away for the sake of her own sanity. Imagining the Varia being anymore powerful or all-knowing is enough to drive the Maid crazy right now.

This maid has seen enough crazy to last her a lifetime, and forty-seven more.

Scratching her messy dark hair, Clara took off her maid's uniform and the rest of her clothes. She entered in her tiny bathroom and turned on valve that thundered warm water into the modest (read: _tiny_) tub. The tired maid submersed herself in a clean porcelain bath tub filled with lukewarm water.

After soaking in the delightfully thick-with-minerals water that soothed out the aches and pains of running from and serving the Varia, Clara used her French soap and shampoo to clean the grime of the day that stuck to her. (Clara loves her home country!) What a way to sooth Varia-caused physical and mental pains! Not even her annoyingly long and now wet bangs sticking to her face could ruin this moment of peace in her itty-bitty sanctuary. In fact, Clara loved her bathroom.

Clara was grateful that she had running water in her room. She's heard that some rooms have off-and-on water, and some don't have any at all. Over-worked and dirty; how depressing. Clara would be the queen of all assholes is she had to work under those conditions. Speaking of assholes…

Clara wondered why her boss was so frustrated as to throw an un-opened tequila bottle at Squalo. He always gets at least a sip before chucking the darn thing, so why be so furious? (There's actually just under a billion reasons for Xanxus to be furious, but let's just pretend that's not the case here.)

"Oh yeah," Clara remembered. "The Tenth Vongola. They're all going to Japan to hunt down the unfortunate heir." Clara felt sorry for the kid, being all sucked into the mafia like he probably is, but yet again, Clara gets a **free** vacation for however long the Varia decide to stay in Japan. No bottles or chairs being thrown in Clara's direction for certain amount of time! HELL YEAH!

But, there's catch (of course). She'll probably end up staying in the mansion anyway to keep the mansion clean because-

A.) Boss doesn't tolerate laziness or a dirty mansion,

B.) Clara has no money to do anything else besides to work to get more money.

The latter made Clara's head drop in defeat. "Why does Boss pay me so little money?" Clara despaired inside her head, "I risk my life everyday! I WANT A RAISE!" Clara sunk further her shoulders in the water, knowing her small dream is waaaaaaay out of her reach; at least it will be with Xanxus as her boss. "Super-minimum wage paychecks are the devil…" Clara thought as an irritated vein on her forehead throbbed.

Relaxing her tensed muscles again, Clara leaned back on the back of the tub and traced patterns in the ceiling with her eyes, and continued to wallow in warm water.

Clara absently thought how rich Xanxus and the Varia must be, (they seem to do whatever the hell they want without worries, especially about breaking furniture that's worth more than Clara on a daily basis) and wondered with the best of her abilities how it was like to live a life style of the rich and the powerful. How great could it be? Or how great could it not be, considering how angry Xanxus always seems. Clara let an airy sigh leave her lips as she sunk half her face under water, pouting, and bubbled out in slightly cooling water, "Oh well. It's not like I'll ever find out for myself."

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

Xanxus and the Varia are having a meeting.

No, really! They are! Ignore the death threats being tossed around, the very loud yelling and the throwing of random objects, and then you could see that most of the members are sitting down. Including Xanxus (of course). And a wide variety of words are being exchanged… _loudly_… So yeah, technically it _**is**_ a meeting.

"VOOOOOOOIII! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOLD STILL, PRINCE-BASTARD!"

"Ushishishishi~ you can't tell the prince what to do, ignorant pheasant. Shut up before I slit your throat open~"

"Not on the floor. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to replace a carpet like this?"

"Yeah, and stop it with the stupid fake royalty stuff, stupid-phony-Prince."

The sharp sound of knives being thrown was heard, laughter following, then a thick-sounding crash, as if a morbidly obese person sat and broke a desk. (AN: that's a weird analogy…)

"Wow~ everyone just seems so rowdy tonight! Maybe I should make some more snacks…"

"Quiet, I think the boss is going to say something!"

The last two comments were ignored by everyone as the argument continued violently.

In the midst of the chaos, Xanxus sat calm in his chair, swirling his alcohol in a crystal glass that reflected the diffuse light in the room. The reddened reflected light scattered across Xanxus's dark features, his coal-black hair and even his facial scar that was only slightly faded. The dark red color of the devil's elixir matches his personality all too well. The Vongola heir took a sip of his scarlet drink, and growled in approval at the stinging sensation in his throat, only to have warmth wash the pain away. He sets the glass back down, then looks out the window that revealed the pitch-black night that lacked a moon and stars.

Xanxus had an uncharacteristically thoughtful look to him as he was pondering about a new mission that need's his attention. This is odd; the Boss is anything but an indecisive man. Whatever Xanxus wants, it happens (not including the current Vongola Heir issue).

But this isn't the usual mission.

The more Xanxus thought about the mission, the more annoyed he felt. If there's one thing Xanxus would personally go out in the world to destroy, it would be brats. Not Tsuna-type brats (although he does needs to die), Xanxus is talking about the rich, obnoxious, and stupidly ignorant brats that made Xanxus feel like they'd be better off without a face.

Xanxus, a long time ago, would go through the torture and go to dinners with the Ninth and socialize their selves with the richest families, (mafia or not) all around the world. And the world supply of brats would be there too. Squealing, daddy-pleading, teary eyes and snot-nosed brats. He nearly killed the other mafia family kids more than once per each special dinner party, double for the brats.

They'd all be dead if it wasn't for the Ninth stepping in every time Xanxus had his hands wringed around a brat's neck. Stupid old man…

And now, Xanxus is out of the Vongola, and is cut off with the other influential families. Sure, Xanxus can keep up appearances with other Mafia families; no, he doesn't mind torturing those ones, nor is it an inconvenience on his part either, since they can't exactly call the police. Not if they want jail-time too.

At least scummy small families can get blood on their hands, and **do **something without the authorities' help. Brats can only flaunt their money and ask their mommy and daddy for everything. Every time Xanxus sees a brat, he has the overwhelming desire to shoot them in their ankles, make them drag their selves to the hospital then show up at the hospital after their painful surgery of snapping their bones back together is done and then finish the job with his trusty guns wearing an honest smile on his scarred face.

But, no people, no business.

As much as Xanxus hates to acknowledge it, he needs the brats and their brat's parents since they do have influential power in politics and in world stocks which is still very important, even for the underground world of the mafia.

But _Xanxus_'s not going to fucking talk to those brats. Would the Varia be able to spy or carry out official business with them? Xanxus could almost laugh at the thought. Not only does Xanxus completely distrust his Varia on doing the business part right (because they're a wild pack of idiots), he has a feeling that the rich and powerful and their pedigree children will suddenly start disappear upon the arrival of the Varia. Not that Xanxus can blame them without being a hypocrite... Damn brats…

But, despite the dilemma at hand, Xanxus has an idea.

It's been brought to Xanxus's attention, that one of the workers at his mansion has been killed or fired yet. (Which is an amazing feet by normal people's standards) That fact alone brings up a very difficult answer; does she annoy the crap out of Xanxus?

No.

By far, Xanxus is not nearly annoyed of her than by the other workers. She doesn't grabble in fear at the sight of him and spill shit everywhere like a clumsy dumb-ass, and she's not disrespectful like an oblivious idiot and 'forced' Xanxus to shoot them in the head. Not at all, not her. This worker is by far the longest worker that has ever existed in the Varia mansion; **two whole months**.

Thereby, she is the most reliable. If not, a death threat will make her loyal. That's one less thing to worry about besides winning the fight against the next Vongola boss for the boss's position in a week. He also has another, much more complicated plan that'll need Xanxus's full attention.

Xanxus emptied half his glass in one gulp at the thought.

Xanxus made a deep growl in his throat at the sting of alcohol, before muttering out, "She'll deal with the brats at Ouran" in conclusion. A certain loud-as-hell assassin didn't hear him.

"VOOOI! Boss, who's going to get the mission?" Squalo shouted at his boss. Sounds like Xanxus forgot to go over the Ouran mission with his idiot subordinates…

Squalo's voice raised in volume and his grey eyes practically sizzled in anger, as Xanxus tuned out his loud-as-hell voice.

…Or even mention what it's about.

Xanxus stared at his second in command for a moment, before tearing the solid wood chair next to him off the ground, and chucking it with precision at the white-haired assassin's head.

Squalo's head was knocked backwards as he screamed profanities, demanding an explanation for being hit in the head. "You're too fucking loud, trash." Xanxus replied.

"Ushishishi~ the job that the boss seems deep in thought about, should belong to the prince." Prince Bel grinned as he gave a amused stare at Squalo who roughed wood chunks out of his hair with one hand and using his other to point and accuse Xanxus of everything little thing that came to Squalo's mind (90 percent profanities, 10 percent 'VOI!').

"Would you like me to take on that mission, boss?" Levi requested respectfully. He was ignored.

Lussuria furrowed his eyes brows. "What's this mission about anyway?"

"Yeah, is it a mass-assassination? Do we get to destroy a village like the time in Malaysia?" Prince Bel asked with hint of amusement in his innocent-sounding voice.

"It's not going to be expensive, is it?" Marmon spoke in an eerily empty yet musical voice.

"It's regular business." Xanxus announced, taking a swig of his drink. Bel made a disapproving sound. "How boring… Never mind then. The prince doesn't want the mission."

Fran decided to speak up. "Yeah, normal wouldn't do it for you. I don't even believe that you're completely human, fake prince," at that moment, a knife was lodged in Fran's hat, dangerously close to his forehead. Fran didn't flinch, let alone blinked as he barely made a fight and whined, "Mou, that hurt Bel-sempai." in a jarringly emotionless voice.

"What kind of mission is it?" Squalo asked in his usual volume, ignoring the stupid prince and the frog-weirdo. Wait, just how did he get into the Varia in the first place?

"It's a long-term spying mission in Japan at a brat's school. The bar-maid is going to go." Xanxus declared in little words with a bored expression. Levi's eyes widened dramatically. "No, boss! We can't let some girl go and do a job for the Varia! She'll mess up for sure!" Xanxus made a "Tch" sound and glared at his Thunder Guardian (…what's his name anyway?) for underestimating his judgment. Didn't the guy worship him or something? He's doing a shitty job.

Levi paled and backed down. Bel's mouth was pulled into a mocking grin. "Hm… why the bar-maid?" he questioned with an amused undertone.

"YEAH! Why the bar-maid? Does she even speak Japanese?" Squalo shouted at his boss. Xanxus crushed the bottle in his hand, expensive scarlet wine spilt to the floor and Marmon glared at Xanxus. The Boss turned his head towards his second in command with eyes filled with smoldering fire. "No shit she does. What do you think I am, an _idiot_?" Before Squalo could get his death wish granted by answering '**YES!**' Lussuria spoke up again. "Hm? I thought she was French?" the flamboyant flamer noted, "Her last name is du Vale, isn't it?" (Why does he know that?)

Fran scratched the side of his head (the only spot on his head he can reach lol). "Ah, this doesn't even make sense… how did she end up working over in Italy if she's from France?" the frog sighed. Marmon turned in mid-air to face his subordinate. "Hm"

Truth is she's worked for the Ninth for a long time.

Xanxus remembers seeing her when I was just a kid, when his mother dropped him off to be a mafia boss- Xanxus remembered faintly, the kind words a younger Clara gave him the moment he stepped out of the limo in front of the house that held a family that changed his life forever. _Welcome 'ome, young Master. Iz deez your bagz or 'ave they not arrived yet? _Even with the annoying accent, she was the only one who didn't try to change Xanxus, or lie to him. She was just a young maid living along the sidelines not mattering directly to Xanxus's life in any way, but in the end she was the most honest person in his life_, _the one that gave Xanxus the greatest amount of a _normal_ feeling while growing up in the mafia. The scarred Mafioso had mutual respect for her. But he isn't going to let his idiot subordinates know that.

"She comes from a poor family and looked for work in Italy. She worked in the Vongola estate as a maid under the Ninth's rule." Xanxus informed his subordinates. His powerful baritone voice echoed in the room.

"Ah I see!" Lussuria beamed, the only happy looking person in the room, "A French girl huh? She may be troublesome… they tend to have big attitudes." the flamboyant assassin's smile turned into a thoughtful look. Lussuria remembered being in France, going around shopping. There was a sale, and it was a free for all, so the flamer Guardian snatched an adorable purse from a sea of greedy hands. Lussuria doubts he will ever forget the blood thirsty snarl the French woman in the store all gave him when they saw he got the last purse. He could have mistaken any of those furious women as the antichrist itself!

"A god-damn French brat? You can't be serious, boss!" Squalo shouted his accusations loudly.

"No. I've never heard her complain about her job before, unlike you, trash." Xanxus confirmed, taking a good amount of tequila in his mouth while Squalo seethed at the insult (shouldn't he be used to it by now?)

"Ushishishi~ that's because she's a pheasant. Pheasant's don't have the privilege to complain." Bel's melodic voice sang out happily, with a threatening undertone that could only belong to Bel.

Levi's face hinted that he agreed completely. "Bel's right! She doesn't do anything important! Boss, if she ever complains we could always just kill her."

Xanxus just sat there in his throne-like chair, pondering upon the unusual attention to Levi's proposal (or unusual acknowledgment his existence, for that matter. Twice in one day is too much for the quantity of his uselessness). Xanxus didn't want to admit it, but he doesn't really want his bar-maid to die. She's the only person in his life that didn't try to lie to him or change him, or be so much of a klutz in his presence to drop or spill anything or be an annoyingly clumsy mansion staff. She is also weird as hell, with her hair style that covered her face. In fact, Xanxus never saw her eyes or her face, and wondered why she kept it hidden.

Xanxus guesses if you're ugly, you're ugly, and how you deal with your face is a personal problem. Besides, someone unattractive will get less attention, right? Even better for the mission.

Trying to remember the last time Clara put attention on herself, Xanxus found himself trying to think of a time when Clara actually even talked about herself.

One occasion or another, all his maid or butlers would try to strike up a conversation with Xanxus a certain number of times; the numbers of times determined by how much the person irritates Xanxus… everyone, except for Clara. This left Clara who only talked about whatever was happening in or out of the Varia mansion, stating her opinion plainly, never expecting a reply.

Sure, Xanxus has meet people void of emotion (save for Fran and Marmon, but they don't count), but he's never seen Clara smile before. Ever. Or maybe she did, but her damn hair got in the way. Damn weird-ass girl.

Realizing he didn't reply yet, Xanxus muttered out, "Yeah."

Levi nodded in approval, seemingly content with how the mission is being handled so far, even though it will be carried out by a _maid_. But, Boss is never wrong.

Squalo made an annoyed sound, while slandering his words over to his boss. "I don't understand why any of the Varia won't be spying for this mission!" Xanxus ignored his loud-ass second in command. Why couldn't he just drop dead from something conveniently painful like AIDs or something? Xanxus is sure Sqaulo's death will actually be the cure to the Varia Mansion's constant noise.

"VOOOOOOI!" Squalo yelled at his boss again, his face exploding in anger. NO. ONE. IGNORES. SQUALO!

Xanxus's eyebrow twitched in annoyance before simply stating, "Because you posse of psychos would never blend in Ouran Academy."

Marmon gave a shocked silence, and the Varia could have _sworn _they heard a menacing thunder-clash outside. "You mean that rich-kids school? That school where the uniform costs more than twelve-thousand yen alone?" A dark aura surrounded the toddler-sized assassin at the thought of spending _**that much money**_ on a freakin' _**uniform**_.

Everyone noticed Marmon's darkening aura and took a few steps back. He may be smaller than them, but he's widely known as 'the guy that'll make you see scary-ass shit when you get him angry'.

"Huh?" Lussuria gave a confused/fearful look, pressing his hand against his face… gaily. "What's so special about this school?"

Marmon's aura only got deadlier. "**You see, Ouran is what you'd consider an 'elite' school. Because they are called 'elite' they expect people a lot of money to get in and stay in. Only rich kids get in. It's one. Big. **_**Expensive.**_** Scam.**" Marmon's voice was more of an invisible knife than anything else as Varia members scrambled to get farther away from the glowering Marmon.

Xanxus remained in his chair with an irritated face; _why the hell are his subordinates afraid of a baby?_ "Looks like there's some discipline to reinforce" Xanxus decided inside of his head. He grabbed his guns and switched off the safety with a 'click'.

Lifting his smoldering gaze to the Varia for a moment, Xanxus is completely and utterly serious. "The French maid-trash _**is**_** going to Ouran**."

**BANG! CRASH! KA-BOOM, et cetera!**

Yes, it was yet another Varia meeting…

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

That night, Clara lay restlessly on an uncomfortable bed. There was one thing, and one thing that been bothering her since the day she's worked here and the only thought running through the girl's mind as her lips curled up in anger.

**THIS**

**BED**

**SUCKS!**

_Why deal with this crap? _Clara sighed and tried to put her attention somewhere else;

Clara remembered a time, when she had a normal life, living a mellow life. Where did it all go wrong? And then, Clara remembers exactly where it all went wrong. **Clara had no normal life**. Parents literally didn't care if she died of not. They never even talked to her.

Aside from that, it seemed that her parents were hiding or not telling Clara something, though Clara could never really place it. Just something that made itself known in the deepest recesses of her mind, so far that it's not so much as a thought, but more of a feeling. It was something Clara could never grasp, for as she did, any bit of reasonableness of that feeling slips right through her fingers like water. Never to become more than vague fuzz in her mind, Clara believes it to be something that was simply part of her. It was infuriating and intriguing on so many levels.

Over the years, Clara has learned to accept it as another lovely part of her life.

Despite her parents never talking to her, Clara managed to get a decent education through French public schooling. The teachers seemed to care. However, while in school, Clara realized the world wasn't as silent as her home with her two cold parents. People make noise all the time, people can talk to each other, and people do so much more. Clara never felt so… regenerated knowing that there's more to life than silence and keeping out of people's ways. Sometimes, it's exactly like that, but other times… life can be so beautiful, it was mind-blowing.

This little piece of inspiration caused Clara to go on working as early as the French law allows; thirteen years old. Clara experienced life, and she couldn't get enough of it. Clara moved out of her parent's house, and they said nothing of the manner, of course. Clara uttered a simple 'good-bye', the only words ever spoken in her home, and then she went running out of her house, and went on living life in Europe.

It was then where Clara learned the evils of minimum wage.

Clara… never made much money, working no matter what job she had. It seemed impossible for the poor French girl to earn decent pay. But, on the bright side, Clara learned many things, meet many people and has experience in just about everything. Even though the pay _**sucked**_. In the end, Clara got to live a lot while bouncing around Italy.

However, not graduating high school means no honest work. It was difficult to grasp at first, but Clara became a maid for the Vongola Mafia family (yeah, the _MAFIA_… she was desperate for money!)

Eventually, Clara wanted a more honest living, and went back to France to work odd jobs.

And while in her home country, she discovered that she had family. Spread all over the world, it seemed, were people like her. She meets her sister Noel Laforet and Noel's daughter and Clara's niece Ciel Laforet while in the underground/shopping-mall city of Montreal. Noel was kind; she was optimistic and always had something important and meaningful to say. Noel was a loving person; always putting her husband and her child ahead of herself. It was probably her only flaw, in Clara's eyes.

Clara has only meet Martin, Noel's husband and Ciel's father only a few times, but she had decided that he was a good man.

With that sort of family, Clara felt almost more complete as a person. She got closer to her newly discovered family.

Then, things got complicated.

Clara's forehead throbbed with a vein vengeance and anger as she thought about him, Huey Laforet, the immortal scientist bastard himself, with his mini-army of 'vampires' Homunculi, and his own telepathic powers, causing havoc on innocent people…The man who's been manipulating her life before she was even conceived. Clara can't believe he's related to her heart-felt Noel.

One painful year after Huey ruined everything, Clara discovered some pretty unpleasant things about her and Huey. Unable to handle or deal with the truth, Clara decided to leave her family, to be alone again, and hopefully have a new start in her life.

But this time no one she once knew will ever get to her.

Clara ran away back to the Vongola Mafia family.

The Ninth was confused first, and then Clara began to tell him, with reluctance, about the immortals and Huey. The Ninth had no choice but to let her back in… days before the Cradle incident.

After the commotion, Clara worked hard to clean and help get the mansion back together, knowing it'd take a long ass time if everyone didn't haul ass. What Clara didn't know was Huey Laforet had ties with the mafia, and put out a capture request for her. The secret members of Huey's cult have been living in the mansion all their lives, but never meet the maids until everyone in the Vongola estate had to be in one place to fix damages brought upon Xanxus.

This thus put Clara back at square one with no job, but this time, on the run- for her life.

Luckily or not, she happened to bump into the fearsome Xanxus one day on the road on a mountain, while walking around aimlessly in Italy. Xanxus questioned her presence at the mountain. Clara figured that she used to work around Xanxus all her life, he'd help her.

When Clara explained her situation (leaving Huey out of it, of course), Xanxus off-handedly gave her the job of getting his liquor to him. The job offer was anything but courteous- it was more of a watered-down threat than anything else. (Not including the nice n' shiny gun barrel kissing her forehead.)

After accepting the job for money anyway, Xanxus left Clara, quite literally, to hike two miles uphill on rocky mountain terrain to get to the Varia mansion where Xanxus told her she would begin working. For being five minutes late getting to the castle (he decided to give her a time limit for fun), Xanxus threw Clara's body at his second in command.

Clara later made it, limping (her back wasn't straight for a week after _that_), to her room so she could wake up and face madness again. This is the cycle of Clara life. Yay…

Brushing her shaggy, unmanaged hair from her face, the bar-maid let her body seep into the uncomfortable mattress. Clara pulled her (rather thin, Clara noted) blanket to her chin and drifted from consciousness quickly so she could deal with more stress of survival and not dying tomorrow.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**The world is covered in hills and hills of soft-golden daffodils, glowing warmly in the bright and crisp sunlight. Above, a perfect blue ocean stretched across beyond to make a sky scattered with blithe, stark white clouds. Smell of sweet flower's nectar tingled and warmed one's senses. It seemed to be a calming and vaguely happy feel in the air and it made itself the ideal atmosphere to lounge down in the rather tempting soft bed of beautiful flowers and relax to one's content. **

**Despite the perfectness of the vision, Clara felt ill at ease.**

**There was too much brightness, as if it was made to make things harder to see, or perhaps to distract Clara. To support this theory; not a touch of green could be found in the golden field of flowers with no stems or leaves of any sort. Dirt is non-existent as well. It felt artificial, that this vision's sole purpose was to project perfection.**

**Clara searched her mind on how to take in this odd setting, and found it faintly familiar to her. Maybe it's the color, or the oddness of it that gave Clara enough anxiety to start looking around for any form of life, or anything that isn't the mockingly perfect daffodils. She found nothing.**

**Clara swopped down and touched the daffodils to find that they had no bud; they were all bundles of petals stuck together by some invisible force. The girl pushed the flowers out to the side, only to have them flow back to fill the spot. Clara tried again and again, but it didn't work. The floor of flowers refused to be dug out.**

**Clara sighed as she pulled her hands from the pile of flowers and lay down on the plush make-shift bed instead. "God, this is way more comfortable than my bed at home…" Clara thinks to herself absently as she laid there in the golden field, feeling nothing in particular.**

**Clara's mind began wandering on, thinking about life- her life. Her parents are strangely distant and unfeeling. They said no more than a couple pages of words to her since she was born. Most of those words were questions about Clara's health when she suddenly became ill one day when she was 11 years old. Her Shadow told her that he was suppressing something in her genes, and made her immune system and body very weak. Clara lived through a bed ridden childhood for a year before she eventually got used to being sick and went back to working. Despite Clara's efforts, her sickness never really went away until she started working for the Ninth. But that's not all that changed.**

**On the day she became hopelessly sick, Clara's appearance changed. Her hair turned explicably long over night and no longer shone in the sunlight, and turned into a dull, flat black color. The part of her hair disappeared, leaving long bangs that covered her face. Clara, at first, wanted to cut the annoying bangs out of her face, but her Shadow told her not to. He told her to keep her eyes hidden, because it would be 'in your best interests'. Her parents never questioned her about her sudden difference in her appearance, of course.**

**Yes, that's right; Clara can remember clearer now. The conversation with her Shadow about her dramatic change… the confusion, even now, does not lift.**

**Shadow… Clara's had a mysterious figure in her life for as long as she can remember. The man (Clara is sure by his voice that he is male) gives her advice and pieces of wisdom of her. Sometimes, when her Shadow visits her dreams, he doesn't say anything at all. His reasons for being are vague and unexplained, but Clara finds comfort in the constant company, oddly enough. Yet again, there is nothing that **_**isn't **_**odd about her Shadow. **

**Clara has never even seen his face before. He never let her. **

**Why hide? Why be so secretive while being such a huge part of one's life? These are questions and things her Shadow has yet to answer or discuss.**

**Clara wishes she knew more about the mysterious person who's been in her life for, as Clara guesses, since she was born. Why does he exist? Why does he help her? Just who was he? These questions are so simply important; it's almost as if Clara is asking questions about herself.**

**Then, out of her own confusion, Clara suddenly felt a familiar presence behind her. Clara sat up with her eyes dead forward, daring not to look behind, knowing that it's her Shadow. Her Shadow always ends her dreams whenever she tries to turn around to see his face. Clara found it both annoying and a curious habit.**

**"Hello" the dark haired girl greeted with no form of respect. Manners were beyond whatever bond her and her Shadow has, even though Clara doesn't quite understand it herself.**

**"You are thinking about your past," her Shadow noted. He always knew her thoughts were. He always seemed to know exactly what Clara did every day, to the very last detail. **_**Always.**_

**Clara dully analyzed her Shadow's words. He speaks in polite, old sounding French, as if his he is old, or perhaps older than his smooth voice lets on. A rock-hard yet smooth quality made up his tone, reminding Clara of a carefully sharpened knife that never cuts. His wording and pronunciations are perfect, never flawed. He talks simply, straight to the point and only makes things easier to digest when sensitivity is needed. Clara noticed, over the years, the way he speaks has never changed a bit. It was like he was in his own little world. Or their world, Clara perceived.**

**"Yes. Many things still do not make sense." Clara sees no reason to lie to her Shadow, and answers Shadow's offhanded question.**

**"Maybe they never will," Shadow replies. His still voice and his offhanded words echoed the empty and beautiful land he created. Or did Clara create this fake world? She lets the thought slide.**

**Funny, Clara can almost imagine him standing right behind her, like she knows and yet doesn't know he is. Would he have blonde, brown, red or black hair? Would he be actually French or something else entirely in nationality… or in species? The possibilities are endless.**

**Maybe he'd look like her, like a conscious. Maybe he has same annoyingly messy bangs that get in the way of Clara's sight…**

**Clara then remembered today, with the bottle crashing against the wall.**

**"Can I cut my hair now? I can't see well, and I need to dodge things that are being thrown around" Clara asked, playing with her stupidly long bangs between her thumb and finger. Shadow was silent, and Clara briefly wondered if he was going to stop the dream. It wouldn't be weird to suspect such a thing, seeing that Clara's Shadow had a god-awful habit of only exchanging a few words with her during slumber. She was lucky to get to finish a conversation in one visit.**

**"Yes," her Shadow answered, "But someone else has to cut it for you. And you can't ask anyone. They will cut your hair on their own choice." Clara wondered what was so hard about saying 'No' in that unnecessarily complicated declination.**

**"Do not fret," her Shadow read her mind, "There is a good reason to have someone else to cut your hair… and your hair will be eventually cut." Clara curled her lips up in confusion. What one Earth does he mean by that? Why make it so complicated? How does he know if someone will cut her hair or not? Seems like Clara's life-so-far just isn't long enough for her to decipher her Shadow's odd ways of handling things and conveying meanings, not that Clara thinks she will any time soon.**

**The soft crunching of flowers meet Clara's ears, then the pressure of hands on her shoulders stuns her senses into a standstill. Her heart skipped a beat in shock. Her unseen eyes widen impossibly wide as something close to panic flows through her body. Never has her Shadow touched her or made direct contact of any kind. Their relationship is always distant.**

_**What does this mean?**_

**Clara was desperate to at least understand her Shadow's feelings; if Clara could just get one look at his expression, maybe, just maybe something will be uncovered. Clara fortunately had courage, but unfortunately time was not on her side. Could Clara beat the time it takes her Shadow to read her mind? Summoning strength and speed, Clara whipped her head around to her right to see blurred flowers pass her**,

And then her dresser that sat plainly at the right of her bed.

Just like that, in the nick of time, her Shadow stopped the dream. "Damn" Clara cursed under her breath. "Every time…" her breath snagged with sleepiness- "_every single_ time…" Clara whispered, holding her pillow down from its place under her head, to her gripping hands.

The maid with many questions left unanswered nestled closer to her stiff bed looking for comfort. She found none. Weariness comes over Clara's panicked body and her hidden eye lids start to drop. Before drifting unconscious again, Clara wishes she was lying down in a bed of daffodils instead of this freakin' stiff bed…

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

Clara awoke to the usual yelling and glass breaking sounds of the morning. Glancing at her silver wrist watch on her bed stand, Clara realized it was seven-thirty on the dot.

"Why doesn't the Varia wait to cause chaos later or at least in the afternoon…?" Clara grumbled irritably. Boss usually starts drinking at nine AM. Who could blame him when he lives around this kind of constant racket? Clara doesn't even want to think about the people right now. Pushing her comfortably warm sheets from her body, the maid takes a shower, gets dressed and brushes her teeth.

She didn't bother dolling herself up, and why do so anyway? (Even though she's completely contradicting herself from yesterday…)

She only did her job two to three times a day. Clara didn't see the point of making yourself look attractive for others, especially at work. Clara knows other woman don't think that, especially French woman, and wonders if it had something to do with growing up poor. Clara decided she didn't really give a damn. Stupid rich people...

She was more occupied with staying alive on the job, though most of the time it's relatively safe because Xanxus's anger is directed at the Varia, or more specifically, Squalo's head. But there are times when the job isn't so peachy. Half the time while working, when Xanxus is feeling lazy, he'll have Clara stands by him and pour more alcohol of his choice in his glass as and when he says so. That's when things start getting dangerous, and bottles are thrown. And knives… Desks… chairs… electronic devices… mansion staff… and just about everything in the mansion that isn't the floor, neither wall nor the ceiling is thrown one way or another.

Clara knows a lot about the law, and lately she's been considering filing a lawsuit. If constant yelling, destruction of property and impolite language isn't unlawful, Clara doesn't know what is. The idea was suddenly deemed suicidal since Xanxus would definitely find out. And Xanxus will make her suffer. And that'll end painfully, judging by the amount of scars on Squalo's head. (Clara once was ordered to help Squalo get all the glass shards out of the man's hair… his scalp looks a spider web folded in half like eight times)

As she made her usual route to the wine cellar, Clara decided to go with regular tequila, since the boss didn't have any yesterday. And Tequila is the Boss's favorite.

Clara made her way to the dining hall where the Varia and the boss were probably organizing new missions and other Mafia business.

The shaggy-haired maid knocked gingerly on the giant wall of a door.

"Enter," a deep resonating voice grants Clara entrance.

The literal French-Maid walked in, to find herself wondering if she needed glasses… or eye surgery… or both just to be safe, and a trip to the local shrink to make sure she crazy, concerning what she's seeing right now.

Perfectly still and peaceful, the Varia is being perfectly still and peaceful. No yelling, no throwing, no fighting. This alone terrifies Clara more than if a table was chucked at her head.

_**"**__The Varia is being civil today__**"**_ Clara tried to get the idea through her head… but it refused to be processed. Maybe because it doesn't make any sense. Clara walked, twice as cautiously than if Bel got his monthly delivery of new, shiny knives. And it definitely didn't help Clara's psyche that everyone's eyes were on her, like they were expecting something to happen. (Save for Bel, whose bangs were hidden, but his head was turned towards her, and was just grinning like usual)

Clara only glanced at the… _new_ Varia through her untamed bangs when she first walked in, and was walking straight forward towards the boss, to avoid whatever the hell the Varia are trying to do, psychologically or physically. Silence enveloped the room as she made it to her boss's side.

Turning her head away from the _**very suspicious **_Varia, Clara opened the tequila bottle numbly and poured it in Xanxus's cup without having Xanxus call her 'trash' or looking horribly irritated.

He… had a blank face… like a thoughtful one. (Is that… good?)

Clara kept pouring into the cup until Xanxus raised his free hand to gesture the maid to stop. Clara complied, but kept her curious eyes on her boss's, also very peculiar behavior.

With grace and speed, Xanxus chucked the glass at Squalo's head who's been silent the entire time. Squalo screamed and cursed, breaking the silence, much to Clara's relief (but **not** to her ears).

"Why the fuck are you all fucking studying her for? Do you really think _**I**_ would pick a wrong person for the mission, retarded-ass trash?" Xanxus furious voice rushed to everyone's ears.

"She's a stupid maid though, Boss. Only a prince deserves to go to Ouran anyway…" Bel announced, raising his gloved hands in the air in a shrug.

"Gosh, look at her! She's a mess! I can't even see her face…" Lussuria mumbled. A stammering Clara didn't hear him, for she was too confused and scared to run away from the Varia member that was advancing towards her then started dancing around her, inspecting Clara head to toe.

_**What is going on here?**_, Clara's mind, body and soul screamed. THIS NOT NORMAL! THIS _**BAD**_!

"And you're going to school too? Geez you really need a mama like me, good thing I'm-" Lussuria's sentence was cut off when, out of curiosity, he lifted Clara's bangs up. (He needed to know what he was working with!) Lussuria's body was blocking what he saw, and everyone seemed interested on what Lussuria saw that kept _him _quiet. More awkward silence and Clara fidgeted.

"Um, Lussuria-sama?" Clara voiced out, not knowing how to interpret the silence, seeing that she couldn't see the flamboyant homosexual's expression because of his large sunglasses he wore constantly.

A murderous aura came leaking out of Lussuria like a waterfall and everyone seemed shocked by this rather blood thirsty feeling coming from the usually cheerful Sun Guardian. Bel's mouth was popped open like an 'O', Fran's eyes were widened slightly, and Xanxus's eyebrows furrowed in shock and the other mirrored his surprised expression (But Xanxus and Squalo somehow managed to still look angry while being confused). Clara seemed to notice the scary aura too, as she began to furrow her eyebrows in caution. Bravery was summoned from Clara's body as she tried to reason with the demon-beast that was once Lussuria.

"Lu-" Clara began bravely, but was cut short. "**You are a truly despicable person, living with… **_**this**_**. I will get rid of this **_**catastrophe**_** right **_**now**_," Lussuria's dark and heavy voice carried itself to everyone in the room. Promptly, Lussuria dragged Clara out of the room with one hand in a death grip around her wrist. Clara's mouth was twisted in shock and fear as she feebly dragged her feet to stop Lussuria from whatever he is trying to do. It didn't work.

The door closed with a click and silence was left in the room.

"He saw her face, and he said he'll get rid of this catastrophe. Bel-senpai, does this mean the flamer is going to cut off Clara's ugly face?"

"…"

"Voi…"

More silence.

Quick footsteps were heard rushing towards the door, two of them, from the hallway. And then, a black haired girl wearing a black v-neck tee shirt, dark skinny jeans and silver flats with a large silver flower on each toe stumbled into the room. Or rather, she was shoved in. She turned back to the grinning Homo-assassin before speaking;

"OW! What, the? How did you- _why_ am I wearing…? WAS THAT NECCESARY!"

"Absolutely, sweet-heart!"

The petite girl seemed to have brushed herself off, and she turned her head to the room's occupants to two yellow eyes, and odd black hair. Her bangs were long and triangular, hanging in the middle of her face. And it was messy looking, like she didn't even have a part in her hair at all.

Weird hair or not, that doesn't explain why some girl is in the Varia mansion.

"Who the fuck are you, Trash?" Xanxus retorted the girl who seemed completely unfazed by his glare as if she was used to it. Smoldering fiery orbs clashes against cool gold eyes.

"Huh?" was the girl's intelligent come-back.

"Boss-"

"Shouldn't you trash be doing something about this girl who's invading the Varia Mansion? How did this happen anyway? I thought this was an assassination squad, not fucking **mall security**!" Xanxus shouted, immediately taking his anger out on Levi, who was standing the closest to the boss (of course).

"BOSS! This is Clara." Lussuria exclaimed, two melodramatic hands in the air.

Silence took over the throne room again at Lussuria's words. Clara wore no expression whatsoever as she stood plainly, not really grasping at anything that was going on, and decided to just be silent and watch what happens.

"Boss," Clara's accented voice caused everyone to look towards her, but the brave maid ignored it this time. She had to know… "I don't mean to complain, but I am very confused right now. What is going on here?"

Xanxus stared at his maid who changed drastically, and narrowed his smoldering eyes.

"You're going on a mission, scum."

…

… "…What?"

"Oh yes! Isn't this great Clara? We're all going to Japan together, my sweet and only daughter!"

Clara did not have it in her to even decipher if that was even Lussuria's voice or not- she was too shocked and confused. It seemed that the only thing that came into light in Clara's landmine-of-a-mind was the old French saying, "When a woman cuts her hair, she's about to go through a great change."

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Author's Notes-**

**I'm not racist; I am being actually very truthful about the French, because I know them personally. I love them to pieces, but they're a weird people. Almost as weird as Americans like me **

**The chaotic-ness of the story that I promised will come eventually- wait.**

**And by the way, is Clara a Mary-Sue? Be honest, and I'll rewrite and make you happy!**

**REVIEW! JUST DO IT AND STOP BEING LAZY ABOUT IT!**

**Questions, comments and suggestions will be read and responded to… if you REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter Deux

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**-LOVE, PEACE & WAR-**

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_It seems like immortality is real. And, immortal life is possible._

_Furthermore, the frantic hunt and protection over the secret of immortality continues today- chaotically, violently, and all around the world, and yet absolutely shrouded in mystery inside the silhouetted world of the Mafia._

_But amidst the maddening 300 hundred-year-old secret conflict, some of the immortal Alchemists from 1711 Europe are up to no-good with their own personal demons and corrupted agendas during their time watching the all corners of the world around them, especially the parts shrouded by mystery, change drastically._

By: chibigurl305

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_"Is family… a good or bad thing?"_

_"It depends. Just how crazy are your folks?"_

_By: Me and a good friend of mine_

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Chapter 2: in Which Change, Accidents and Coincidences are Inevitable for the Innocent and the Ominous, Who Wait to Strike from within the Shadows**

Yes, things have changed for Clara- some scary, some not as scary- but still pretty darn scary. For one thing, Clara is in a private jet plane with the Varia and the boss, heading to Japan for a mission. A mission that supposed to be mafia related. (Y'know, because the Varia is a Mafia assassination squad and everything- Clara is still trying to pretend that this is ok.)

Well, this is all fine and dandy; except for one thing- _**CLARA**_ **IS** somehow** INVOVLED**. Not only does Clara want nothing to do with the mission itself, but being in constant presence with the Varia and the Boss doesn't sit well with little Clara. (Or with her overall health.)

It's not like she hates them; oddly enough, she likes the pack of killers a little too much for her own comfort. She literally has no reason to _**not**_ hate them all. Sure, they're obnoxiously loud and curse enough to make a Sailor scold them for bad language, but they're spontaneous and nothing is ever boring with them, which Clara feels very fortunate about. Nothing is more horrible than awkward silence. Or boredom. And they haven't tried to kill Clara directly (yet).

But, killers are killers. And what do killers do? Take a wild guess. Yeah! They kill!

Even worse, they terrorize civilized people with their mere presence.

…You _don't_ believe Clara?

Well guess how the Varia got their Cloud Guardian, that giant freakin' robot thing, Gola Mosca, onto an airplane?

Oh, just a hint, they're using a commercial airplane, so they actually had to go through airport security.

Another hint; each Varia member (except Xanxus cause he was more interested in the tequila bottle in his hand… isn't it a felony to work while being drunk?) was equipped with 500,000Volt Cattle-prods upon entry of the Palermo Airport.

Hint no. 3: Lussuria didn't want to scare all of the Italian locals and travelers so he put a giant pink (it was his) blanket so no-one would be suspicious. Even though the girlie blanket covered about forty percent of the Gola Mosca and only got people to stare even more. Which resulted in the zapping of the _living daylights_ out of the entire Airport staff, travelers and locals.

By the time Clara and the Varia got onto the un-boarded plane, one of the two pilots was electrocuted, curtesy of Bel. Squalo took it upon himself as a tidy and responsible (this… is actually true…) man to push the body of the unconscious pilot off the plane before the conscious pilot, who had a cattle-prod at his neck, was forced to fly the airplane to their destination, for free (Curtesy of Marmon).

Just like terrorists. _Italian terrorists_.

And Clara was in an airplane full of them, already a hundred miles in the air.

And they expect Clara to go on a mission, which no one bothered to explain to Clara as Lussuria rushed into her room earlier in the morning with bags and bags of clothes, and rushed her inside the plane, barely giving Clara enough time to change into the outfit Lussuria picked out. (Said outfit consisted of thigh-length white and red striped pull-over sweater with a hoodie, dark jeans that the flamboyant man cuffed and a pair of red converse.)

Not even adding the whole _partial kidnapping_ and _emotional trauma _part of the trip so far, the maid is still rather upset with her higher-ups. _Cattle-prods_? Seriously?

"Well at least I wasn't the one who got shocked," Clara tried to stay optimistic. (This is unusual for the average French person.)

Clara tuned out the sound (once you start working for the Varia for more than a couple of weeks, you learn to tune out everything except Squalo's voice) of sobbing that was coming from the emotionally abused pilot. She ignored his existence and put a fist under her head and stared out the airplane window. Her eyes caught the sight of her sleeve that wasn't her usual dark colored uniform. It's designer. The maid frowned.

Clara liked clothes and shopping. She really does. The only reason she doesn't go out and go shopping like any typical French person is because of Xanxus's ridiculously small paychecks he signs off to his mansion staff (actually, Squalo does all of Xanxus's paper-work, the lazy bastard). Yeah, try buying a recent outfit at 2.50$ an hour. (IS PAYCHECK THAT SMALL EVEN LEGAL? Oh wait; this is the Varia, never mind.)

But, now Clara gets free clothes from any designer she wants, since Lussuria is buying it all from his assassination money (that seems basically endless). So why complain, right? There's one good reason. _Lussuria is a shopaholic/spawn-of-Satan when it comes to dressing people up_. When Clara got her first 'makeover' Lussuria almost gave her welts from pushing her around and shoving clothes with hangers still on them at her.

Apparently, picking out and trying-out new clothes with a Maui-Thai master ain't fun.

Imagine _that_ craziness.

But it things can't get much crazier than being on an airplane with a group of psycho super-assassins for a few hours. Yeah, try sleeping through a Man-Shark's shouts, creepy laughter and glass breaking while an extremely flamboyant gay guy talks to you non-stop about the new Gucci fashion line. Clara has had better plane rides, she really has.

It's safe to say that Clara didn't sleep until Xanxus (who amazingly enough brought his chair along on the plane… it's just there, there's not even any seal-belts holding him or the chair in place… wtf?) who felt like sleeping, and forced everyone to shut up with his twin pistols.

The poor, unfortunate Maid wishes she could do that (The whole, 'bring your comfortable chair everywhere you go' and make everyone shut up with guns… must be good to be Boss!)

Soon enough, the plane landed in a forest somewhere in Japan. The maid was relieved that they made it without complications, excluding the whole 'destroying the airport' thing. Forgetting about 500,00Volt Cattle-prods would be nice too. And if luck is on Clara's side, maybe she'll actually find out why the hell she's in Japan, but hey, no one gets what they want! (Note the sarcasm…)

The Varia got up and started to storm out of the Airplane, and Clara followed.

Clara was happy to start walking- eight hours is never kind to your body if you're in a chair the entire time. It makes your legs go painfully numb.

So Clara basically stumbled like a schizophrenic drunk the entire way from the private jet to the ground. If Lussuria wasn't there to yank her arm every time she stumbled, Clara's face would be indented in the forest dirt.

Xanxus's chair was carried by Squalo and Levi (and THAT is how his chair is moved, children!) and the rest of the Varia followed, and also an oddly placed Clara.

Xanxus, Squalo and Levi were in front, Lussuria and Clara walked side by side behind them, and Bel, Mammon and Fran were in the back.

"Ah, here we are in Japan~" Lussuria cooed in Japanese with his hand to his face, the pinky finger on his other hand was up… gaily. "Yup." Clara duly noted the green and flourish forest, and yet sensing a hidden menacing vibe from it. Clara immediately edged closer to the Homo-Assassin.

"Maid, the Prince has a question for you," Prince Bel sang out as he walked faster to reach Clara's shoulder. "Alright…" Clara voiced cautiously. You just can't trust royalty these days. "Why do you know how to speak Japanese?" Clara blinked; the question that Bel asked… is normal?

"The Ninth made me learn." Clara recited at the memory when the Ninth, while smiling, dropped a big and heavy French-to-Japanese dictionary in her lap and told her to learn soon as possible. Thirteen year old Clara was too eager to please, and actually ended up with intense migraines for months after shoving so many foreign words into her head all at once.

Then the young maid broke out into random Japanese fits weeks after. People thought she was a 'special' girl and gave her candy and attention, to Clara's delight. It wasn't until Clara finally learned about Special-Ed people did she realize she was being pitied, not loved dearly by the mansion staff. Disappointment, humiliation and embarrassment followed.

Good times, good times.

"Hm? Really? I think that's how Squalo came about to learn Japanese!" Lussuria exclaimed to Clara's vague answer.

"VOI, JUST WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DISCUSING BEHIND MY BACK, YOU FUCKING FAG?" Squalo shouted when he heard his name being said in the Homo-assassin's voice. He staggered from the power of his own yelling, as he nearly fell over while under Xanxus's heavy chair.

Clara blanched at the bluntness and of Squalo's words, and Bel just snickered, but Lussuria seemed to ignore it with a big, sunny smile as he talked about French designers Clara knew nothing about.

To save herself from any possible super-punches from the Flamboyant Assassin who has a scarily dark side, Clara nodded and 'uh-huh'ed while the Homo-Assassin rambled on without really listening. Bel went back behind Clara and Lussuria to bug Fran and Mammon, Xanxus's heavy chair was getting increasingly heavy on Squalo's back. If Levi complained (which is not possible, anyway) no one cared.

"I really wish I knew why the hell I'm in Japan right now," Clara thought absent-mindedly as she listened particularly to Lussuria's speech/documentary on… whatever he's talking about. "I wonder if they'll kill me if I ask. Isn't it a mafia-thing to kill people when they find something out?"

Clara decided to be brave, and hopefully, in the worst case scenario, Clara will be let off with only a finger missing. Hopefully.

"Monsieur Lussuria, if you don't mind me asking," Clara paused to let Lussuria nod in acknowledgement. "Why am I in Japan?" Lussuria's smile faltered for a moment before smiling sheepishly. "Ah, well… you see Clara-chan…"

Loud-ass yelling followed.

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL HER ANYTHING?" Squalo practically stabbed Lussuria with his glaring eyes. "Ah, well we were in a hurry…" Lussuria defended himself, with his pinky up in a homo-manner.

Clara saw the gesture, and wondered how gay one man can be. WHEN IS IT GAY ENOUGH? "Oh, whatever I actually don't care" Clara admitted inside her head. Gay people never did Clara wrong before, and Clara hopes it stays that way. Especially that this particular homo has killed men with that one particular pinky he's holding up there in the air.

"THAT'S A SHITTY EXCUSE FOR BEING A RETARD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STANDING THERE? TELL THE STUPID MAID" Clara twitched at the insult; "ABOUT THE MISSION SO THAT WE CAN ALL J-" Xanxus had enough ear-damage. So, he ripped a young tree that was at his side from its roots and smashed it over Squalo's head with a very thick sound. Surprisingly (shouldn't he be used to this already?), Squalo fell down on his face from the 'mild' attack, leaving Levi straining to keep Xanxus's chair level to the ground. Levi had the look of an elder man who didn't eat enough fiber, and was paying the consequences for it- in the bathroom.

Bel laughed, and Clara couldn't hold back a smile.

Ah, violence and dirty imaginations in the morning!

Just as Squalo was getting back up to see what the hell hit him, his jaw went slack. "What the fuck-?" Squalo muttered when he saw the up-rooted tree was metal on the inside but had bark as an outside; like a robot disguised like a tree. Lussuria made a sound that sounded like a gasp, and everyone else was silent staring at the robotic tree trunk.

Squalo lifted up the trunk from the ground, and metal bullets fell to the ground with little 'clicks' from somewhere inside the tree/machine. "Oh my, what's going on?" Lussuria pondered out-loud.

"Ushishishishi~ I think this mountain was made to be like Death Mountain back home," Bel laughed again at the coincidence of landing here of all places.

Clara immediately blanched at Bel's words. Bad memories? _Oh yeah_. Clara remembers _vividly_ well of the day she got lost in the middle of Death Mountain when she decided to take a stroll around the Varia base (Worst idea ever, by the way). Machine-gun trees, super-beavers of death, poisonous acid that looks and smells like water, fiery acid waterfalls, slopes with diamond-dusted metal spikes (meaning they can cut through anything), randomly concealed Lava pits, giant man-eating leeches, and so much more…

The only reason she survived is because Xanxus had a tantrum that day and burned a good part of the forest, and the lower-ranking Varia members to put it out before it spread, thus letting them find Clara before her lungs could turn black from the smoke that his 'Flames of Rage' put out.

That was the only day Clara has been appreciative of Xanxus, ever. (The job doesn't count, because she suffers more than she gains.) And that day doesn't pay back for the amount of sheer potential law suit money she has against him and every Varia member. Of course Clara won't go to court with any of that, in case of a 'surprise' death by blue tentacles.

"I think I'll go wait in the plane, then. I'll come and meet up with you guys… when the mountain rots away…" Clara muttered shakily. The maid half ran, half strode, back to the direction of the plane. However, the Varia has other plans.

Before Clara could make her escape, Bel held tight onto her hood before she could walk past him. _No, no, no, no, NO! Do not want satanic mountain! DO NOT WANT!_

Despite the panicking emotions flowing through Clara, she kept a straight face that revealed nothing. "You're not going anywhere; you got a job to do." The prince grinned.

"_What job?_" Clara, who was beyond irritated, shouted the Prince. He only laughed that creepy laugh, which made Squalo sigh… loudly.

It was then, when all the trees, every one in every direction, tilted backwards, away from the group, and opened up like Pez-dispensers. The sound of wood clacking reached the assassins' ears as they drew out their weapons, and raised their fits- save for the Boss who stood in his chaired and with a bored expression, ignited his hand with fire (Squalo and Levi set his chair on the ground). The metallic gleam inside each tree showed, as countless barrels of unseen guns were pointed at the group. Even at the unarmed Clara.

Clara would have a chance, if she at least had a knife or a dagger. _Or something_!

But she doesn't.

"_Crap_!" was the singular thought in Clara's head before hitting the floor as bullets, knives, a sword, creepy illusions, lightning and fire was ablaze above her feeble form on the ground. The combination of powerful attacks lit the air on a multi-colored fire; the last of the explosions wisped everything away.

As soon as it began, it was over. Clara lifted her head, blinking at the damage; every normal tree for as much as Clara guesses, a mile or so, was splintered and or torn in half. The entire mountain side was scorched and heavily scarred. The metal inside the robot-trees was molten red color and dripping the liquefied stainless steel on the ground, setting the lower vegetation on fire and leaving burn marks on the bare parts of the land. The ground was littered with deformed bullets, and more burn marks.

"Way to be discrete, Boss. No one will be mad for burning down a good chunk of their satanic mountain that must be really expensive." Clara drily thinks to herself.

Clara stands back up and brushes off the dirt on her jeans.

"Geez, that was unexpected, ne?" Lussuria cooed as he set a hand on his hip.

"WHAT THE FUCK XANXUS? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US ABOUT THIS?" Squalo yelled at his Boss.

**CRASH**

"WHERE ARE YOU GETTING ALL THESE FUCKING BOTTLES FROM?" Squalo shouted in an even higher volume, which both irritated and secretly amazed Clara. That man should have busted his voice-box after he was born! Squalo _just has to be_ the answer to throat cancer and all throat illnesses!

"I just ran out. Go get me some more so I can throw it at you, fucking scum." Xanxus casually blamed Squalo, who only fumed like a shark-volcano.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I DO THAT FOR, YOU DAMN, SHITTY BOSS?" Squalo was waving his sword as his boss and Xanxus looked like he'd rather talk to a cheap beer bottle than to his subordinate. (And Clara has heard rumors that they were friends too…)

Clara stared at the fight with an expression that read, 'are you serious?' with all the cynical French sarcasm, and dryness clearly visible.

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE GETTING UP! I'M NOT DOING YOUR CHORES, ESPECIALLY WHEN CIVILIZATION IS AT LEAST A MILE AWAY! GO GET YOUR SHITTY MAID TO GET YOUR BOOS, YOU DAMN LAZY BASTARD!" Squalo hollered at his boss, who seemed to not care about his Subordinate's opinion, one way or another, and was now ignoring him. And this took a lot of skill; considering that you're trying to tune out _Squalo's_ voice of all voices.

Clara, however, didn't believe that Xanxus was ignoring Squalo. The proof is in the pudding. Or rather, the truth is the five-foot flame dancing in Xanxus's hand. Squalo said some Italian profanities and began to charge at his boss, who was completely prepared.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

Bel only snickered at his boss and commander's argument… that he caused. It was actually his job to tell the Maid about the plan, since they're the same age or something like that- whatever, Lussuria suggested it. But Bel decided not telling Clara would be more fun, and so got everyone considerably riled up and drunk yesterday so they'd forget about the Prince's little job. And secretly tampering with the boss's alcohol stash and framing a useless Varia-underdog for it- _even more fun_~ Ah, it's _**good **_to be Prince!

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

Clara's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, witnessing Prince Bel's insanely creepy laughter, and even creepier aura-flare that came out of nowhere. Seriously, he just started to laugh for no reason! That is _not_ normal! Ugh, her 'co-workers' are the weirdest people on the planet.

But, hey- it could be worse. (Probably not.)

Clara, distracted by Bel's creepy laughter, was now able to block Squalo's voice and the sound of Xanxus burning things, and was now spacing out- '_Geez, I need a hobby, or better yet, a job that's not this one. Working for these people will definitely result in utter solitude in the face of normal people. Or death. That won't be good. Maybe I should just stay here in Japan, then maybe I won't have to deal with those psycho 'Vampires' and-'_

"-ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING, YOU RETARDED MAID! YOU'RE SO FUCKING USELESS! IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE FRENCH, ISN'T IT!" was the lovely words that came out of Squalo's mouth.

"Oh. Xanxus let Squalo off with only burns on his Varia uniform." Was Clara's first though when she saw Squalo towering above her, and yet only seeing his dirtied uniform that CLARA is going to be forced to clean later. And he seemed to be extremely angry, since he was breathing heavy in either anger or exhaustion, or both.

"HEY! THAT WAS RACIST!" was Clara's second thought.

"_Qu'est-ce que tu viens de dire, l'oignon stupide_?" (Translation: What did you just say, stupid onion? The French use vegetable names in place of curse words. The French, despite what we think, almost never actually curse! FRENCH FACTS!) Clara was tempted to say to the Shark-man, before forging innocence and politeness. "Squalo-san," Clara reminded herself that she was in Japan, and spoke kindly, "Could you repeat what you said?" despite Clara's effort, she still sounded annoyed.

"Tch, stupid maid!" Clara's eyebrow twitched at the insult, and her hand clenched as she imagined Squalo's neck in her grasp, "I told you to go get some decent food, and some boos for the damn shitty boss! I'll give you the address of our hotel when we get out of this fucking forest." The shark's voice was edged with clear annoyance. "Oh, and try not to fuck up or I'll cut you into _bitch-sashimi_." He added, while his body twisted back, right when the bushes exploded with metal spikes that showered down in every direction.

In response, Squalo unsheathed his sword and deflected the spikes and began to destroy more of the forest. The rest of the Varia and the boss did the same.

The Maid yelped something frantic in French, before ducking and dodging everything that came towards her, all the way out of the forest. Clara never felt quite so thankful for her abusive job. And even her abusive boss.

Almost as to prove Clara's point, the Varia brought destruction everywhere they walked.

As they all finally made it out of the forest without injury, and Squalo slapped handed Clara a wad of bills big enough to temp the poorly paid maid to steal. But, smart people just don't steal money from Assassination squads.

Clara can only pretend it's hers, and that she's buying ingredients and part items for her friends. But she just can't get into that scenario, looking at homicidal grins, frantic sword-waving and the demon-like gaze of her boss. (And Clara _knows_ what a demon looks like.)

Before departing with the 'eccentric' group, Clara stared back at the forest her and the Varia just 'walked' through.

Clara hopes that the owner of the satanic mountain doesn't return to check up on it while the Varia is still in Japan. _How_ bad is the damage exactly?

Well, let's just say, Clara better not be paying for the damages.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

A man stood from afar, watching the little fiasco with the strange group of men- probably mafia- and an out-of-place female came out of the shocking dangerous forest. Who ever knew such innocent looking vegetation could do so much damage? How amusing! The man happened to walk by just in time to catch the entire fiasco- _a totalcoincidence_, but luckily so, on his part.

With his bloody red eyes with animalistic golden-yellow irises watched the group. His pupil shrunk considerably in the slight sunlight, like a cat, from his hiding spot from the strange group.

He observed their reactions to the violent mountain, and guessed that they might be the famous Varia assassination squad that works for the Vongola crime family.

He should know. He hunted down and killed Mafia members for fun in the 1930's.

However, there's something he didn't know;

The suited man was a mildly surprised by the locals' reactions; nothing, as if they're _used _to explosions, fire, knives and violence in general.

"How odd," the man spoke in rough, British accented English, a daunting and an animalistic cruelty made up the man's voice and tone, "These people must be livin' in da same city dat Mafia family lives… the one that the other immortals were talkin' 'bout." The man mused, spreading his lips apart to let abnormal pointed teeth shine with sadistic intentions.

"This means that the Varia really are going against the Vongola," the man suppressed a laugh, "There's gonna be alotta blood!" the sadistic man let the laugh run through his body, his hand over his sharp mouth silence any more chuckles with no avail; the cruel sound echoes into the dark alleyway that he stood in. Then, a sudden gleam of realization came into play in the man's demon-eyes.

"Then, that means…"

The man stepped to the side a bit from the building he was hiding his body behind to catch a glimpse of the girl with the Varia. Black hair, yes; check … but what about her eyes? Her back was the man's raptor-like line of vision. The man 'tch'ed and waited for the girl to leave the group and walk past the building ha was hiding behind.

For that moment that she crossed his line of vision, at a moment the man was sure she least expected, she was made into a target. Like a helpless little lamb! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

The man released a low, dark and deadly chuckle that echoed from deep inside his black heart; "Ha-ha! Oh, Clara! It looks like I found you, huh! How long has it been now? _Two years_? _Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha_! But, ha-ha, this time- _I'm going to make sure you're dead_. I'll cut out your little traitor heart if it comes to it, _ha-ha-ha-ha-ha_!"

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

The town's people were humble, and didn't rush to wherever they were going. This must be one of those, 'close-knit' kind of towns, Clara thought. However, every once in a while Clara will spot a teenager with black Elvis hair. The spiral-tube thing and everything! Clara did a double-take at first to make sure Japanese air made French people crazy.

Thankfully, the only thing crazy here in Japan was hair-styles in teens. (And wasn't Elvis only popular in America during the 50's or something?)

Oh well. _Comme tu va_, right? (Translation: _As you will_- is a very sarcastic French phrase and a personal favorite of Clara's.)

Regarding the second-in-command's order, who also neglected to tell her why she was in Japan- the Japanese drug store thankfully had tequila, and luckily Clara was able to buy a bottle over a hundred (if it's not over a hundred in Euros, Xanxus will not drink it). But she had a hard time convincing the store clerk that she was old enough to buy the drink. Now, _that_ was offensive. Stupid Japanese people…

"Now, for the food…" Clara went on a street as she held the boos in her hand. Clara walked herself in a light-traffic street with fewer people around. She scanned the sides of the business buildings to find a decent meal.

Clara walked up to the front of the restaurant to find the small business to find that it has a pleasantly homey and casual sort of feel. Home-style cooking makes the best food. The Maid suspects that it must be family owned, from experience from working at similarly family-owned shops such as these. But this time, it's defiantly not as comforting.

The French Maid doesn't know a lot about Japan, or anything Japanese for that matter, and feels rather out of place with the decorations with odd paintings with even stranger writing on it.

It's so… _foreign_.

BUT- this is Clara's job… aside from the food part, she's never done that before. (Does the Varia even like fish in the first place?)

The Varia made her to do this- to go into town to get food and boos while they wait at a hotel, giving Clara free time for the first time in years. But, the rare treat is ruined by the fact that she's in Namimori, Japan. At least most European people have some French stuff, like in Germany, Belgium, Norway, or any other country besides Asian countries.

Sure Japan had pastries, but here in the Far-East, Clara found that the familiar looking treats don't share the same taste as in Nice or Paris.

It's like the Japanese don't know how to make chocolate or something.

But, that doesn't really matter. One, and _only _one mission out of Italy, and Clara would be damned if she didn't enjoy every second of it. But that's determination is too ruined by not knowing Japanese Kenji.

Walking around in a confused dazed, surrounded by odd symbols for a language, made the maid quite hungry and tired for the half an hour she's been here.

However, the French Maid has a feeling that the small business in front of her was a good restaurant. Her instincts told her so.

(Even though this is Clara's first time eating sushi- _ever_.)

Pushing those thoughts away, Clara inspected the inside of the small business. It was pleasantly clean and organized, like how a disciplined Manager and kitchen staff ought to have their restaurant. Clara also noticed that there weren't any costumers inside, yet again who eats sushi at six AM on a weekday? And why was the store open now when they are no costumers in the first place? (Not that she would even know, Clara you little smart-ass)

Meh, _Comme tu va_.

Ignoring the emptiness of the inside, Clara begins noting the types of decorations. Since there are few decorations, Clara has a feeling that men live here.

Clara, being the perfectionist food-inspector that she is, finished her analysis of the shop before deciding that the restaurant is good enough to eat in. A 'ding' sound rang out as Clara stepped into foreign territory of the sushi-shop.

Just as Clara got a whiff of an appetizing aroma of fish, a cheerful teenage boy came out from the back door that was covered halfway with hanging horizontal, thickly cut paper strips. Clara thought the paper strips part was odd, but yet again, French people call each other vegetable names as insults, and actually get very offended. Sometimes calling someone a Cabbage meant a full on fist fight in France. Even Clara, who was raised in France, thought that was damn weird.

"Yo!" the boy called out in a welcoming and carefree tone, speaking fluently casual Japanese. He rubbed his hands on a white cloth that hung on a chair's back before setting it aside on an empty table, and walked towards Clara. Before Clara opened her mouth, she felt very grateful for the Ninth making sure she knew Japanese, and not saying, "_Je m'appelle Clara, comment vous-appelez vous_?" or something just as horrifyingly generic.

"Hello. I'm not interrupting your break, am I?" Clara duly noted the casual appearance of the boy's clothing choice; baggy washed out T-shirt, loose/fit jeans and sneakers. The laid-back and sporty look supported the teen's contagious smile, and didn't even distract one's eyes from his built, lean, and broad-shouldered body.

Clara suddenly blanched; she is such a pedo! How old is this kid, 16? Shameful for someone like Clara. Shame! SHAME!

The boy didn't seem to notice Clara's dismay as he laughed cheerfully. It was nice and light.

"Nah, me and the old-man take this time of day to put away trash, first thing in the morning, so we can start the day clean," the boy gestured to a few empty boxes in the corner of the restaurant. Clara nodded. "I see"

"Hey, you got a funny accent. Are you foreign?" the boy suddenly asked with an innocent smile. Clara would have glared at the boy for being so bluntly rude, if she hasn't been asked the same question seven times already, and she was just too tired right now to be annoyed.

And besides… the boy seems like a good kid…

"Yeah, I'm from France." Clara answered. Inwardly Maid wondered when the boy, who stated that he worked here, was going to seat her at a table or not.

"Wow, France? That's cool! We've never had a French person in out shop before! Lots of Italians though." the boy laughs excitedly. Clara's eyebrow quirked at the last part, but decided to ignore it.

Clara noticed that the boy's eyes seemed to light up when he talked, and his rather contagious smile was starting to affect Clara as she smiled back- against her will, of course.

"I'm glad to be the first then." Clara grinned for the first time in two years. It felt good.

"Ha-ha, great! Alright, sit right down and I'll take your order when you're done looking over the menu," the boy announced, and rushed back to the back door where slight rustling was heard. "Oh, and sit wherever you want!" the boy added from inside the unseen interior of the room.

Clara nodded to herself before sitting down at a modest two-person table and opened up the menu. Clara instantly grimaced to find that the menu didn't even have pictures to help the French Maid, just a lot of Japanese words. "Hm, this can't be good…" Clara pondered as she tried to pick out any alphabet letters out of the menu of Asian foreignness with no luck. Mmm, just awesome

The teen returned back to the dining area to notice Clara's confused face, but didn't seem to notice her annoyed expression as he smiled at her, and said "You can't read the menu?" Clara answered the teenage boy with a glare that says, 'this is your fault, go buy a French menu. Aren't Asians supposed to be smart anyway?'

The boy didn't seem to notice the maid's glare, and walked over to her table and took to the other seat, opposite to her, smiling the entire way. Clara would have asked why he smiled so darn much if his smile wasn't as peasant as it is.

"I would recommend a Salmon roll. Costumers go crazy over my dad's Salmon sushi," the boy said, pushing back his hair slightly with one hand with an almost inaudible sigh.

Clara looked up from her confusing menu to look the boy in the eye, but almost gasped out-loud at what she saw.

Now that Clara's up close, she can see the dullness in the boy's eyes and the falter in his façade of happiness, and his aura even. Clara isn't one to be easily fooled, but far away the boy looked truly happy. He is trying hard to deceive people to portray happiness, and he did so under Clara's careful eye. This took Clara by surprise.

Now what to do…

"Should I say something, or is it some sort of personal problem? What if I'm one of those annoying adults if I ask him 'what's wrong' and try to console him? Ugh, stupid teenagers!" Clara's mind went hay-wire on how to deal with the boy's sadness. "He's trying to hide it, so maybe it's not right to bother him…? But what if he's suicidal or something, and I do nothing and he dies?" As much as she sees the thought as melodramatic, Clara doesn't know how spot-on she was.

"Might as well help, right?" Clara thought attentively.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Clara said reluctantly, offering a concerned look. The boy looked surprised as he stared at Clara in an awkward silence.

"Crap, I messed up! I suck at talking to teenagers!" Clara despaired inside of her head and her face twisted into a disgruntled one. "Um, I…" Clara feebly tried to redeem herself, but the boy cut her off. "… Yeah… I don't think I'm strong enough…"

Clara blinked back surprise and confusion at the response. "… Not strong enough for what?" Clara repeated cautiously, wanting to make sure if she's going to be giving _**that**_ sort of advice- which should be handled by his parents. Or not wanting to make the boy feel any worse than he already did by sounding like she didn't understand his problem… which she didn't.

The boy opened his mouth to talk, but looked like he had to hold something back before answering, "Not strong enough to protect my friends."

"Not strong enough to protect my friends," are words painfully familiar to Clara. She couldn't do a thing when her sister, and best friend, Noel Laforet died. She knew who exactly who did but couldn't do a thing because the killer was intimidating, and could kill Clara if he really wanted to. Clara knows the feeling of helplessness to another person of helplessness inside of yourself well enough to feel pain looking into the boy's dulled caramel eyes.

Clara was weak because she was born small, and had a petite frame and didn't have the will to fight as hard as she should have for her best friend's life. Clara worked for years to get that kind of strength, though, the shadow of regret always seemed to haunt her in the back of her mind to remind her what she once was; weak, weak, weak.

The boy in front of her seemed strong, physically, with his broad shoulders and height. But moreover, he surpassed Clara in the most important sort of strength- mental strength; Clara couldn't even try to hide her sadness when Noel died. Clara cried for days, even in front of her daughter who was too young to even understand fully the meaning that her mother was dead. She should have cared and comforted her more, but she was wallowing in her own grief…

…And yet this boy who is years younger than Clara can smile in the face of a stranger- a stranger in nationality no less and even be kind enough to help her understand something without being asked to, out of kindness he buried inside of himself. To go through that kind of sadness, and still be able to smile… this boy is strong, Clara knew this for sure.

"If you're willing to give your pride away to a total stranger, you can fight for your friends and win." Clara stated with finality. Clara refuses to let this boy think that he is weak. He's so much stronger than Clara, and doesn't even realize it. C'est bête! (Bête is 'stupid' or 'annoying' in French)

The boy took on a serious expression on his face. The looks almost seemed unnatural on his soft yet firm features that adorn smiles easily, but yet the look of sternness stared back at Clara with a calm sort of flame-like attraction to them; you know you'd be burned if you hold it too close, but you can't keep your eyes away...

As soon as the solemn moment came, it passed as he turned his head to the side, chuckling lightly. Clara furrows her eyebrows and starts to get annoyed with the boy. Just what's so darn funny? "Did my words get messed up on the translation?" Clara asks in a forced patient tone, but the annoyance was there.

"No," the boy says, still chuckling and smiling, "You're totally right, it's just that… that…" the boy broke off into more admittedly charming laughter. "Just what?" Clara says in confusion. Teenagers these days… they're all on drugs or something!

"It's just that it's funny to have an eighteen year old girl knock some sense into me," the boy gets through dying off laughter.

An angry vein suddenly appears on Clara's forehead. "I'm twenty-two years old!" Clara seethes through a forced smile, menace clearly visible on the flustered girl's face. The boy looks surprised again, before laughing- again. "WHAT? WHAT'S SO FUNNY?" Clara yells at the teen boy and kicking violently at his shins from under the table.

"Ha-ha, ow! No I didn't mean to offend you miss, ow. It's just that I really thought you were around my age, ha-ha-ha-ha, ow!" the boy said while laughing as an angry Frenchwoman kicked him mercilessly. He's lucky she ain't wearing heels! "But you seemed to mature to be sixteen like me, so I thought you might be a few years older… you are!"

Clara gave up, seeing that the boy is seemingly undamaged after being kicked by a woman Clara's size… and partially to the mild compliment. She slid back into her seat up-right and gave an annoyed sigh as the boy's laughter died off. "Hey, what's your name?" he asked suddenly. Clara's was taken-back by the suddenly genuine smile that the boy gave her. It was brighter and even more charming when he really meant it. Clara almost felt star-struck under the blinding smile, before responding;

"du Vale, Clara" Clara stated, remembering that last names go first in Japan.

The boy smiled approvingly and opened his mouth, "I'm Yammamoto Takeshi! You can just call me Yammamoto, Clara-chan" despite that Yammamoto mistook Clara for a teenager, she smiled back and said, "Alright, Yammamoto."

Yammamoto smiled and slid out of the seat to stand up. "So, Salmon, right?" he asked with some kind of knowing look in his eye. A wide smile crept along Clara's European features, before replaying in a tone as sweet and light as the color of her Citrus Marmalade eyes "Sure thing."

Yammamoto brought Clara her sushi, and then she meets the chief herself. She found it both enduring and weird that a father and son can be so alike, but Clara couldn't find anything bad to say about how close they seemed, or how light-hearted their identical smiles were.

… But it was then when she realized that Yammamoto and Yammamoto senior are not the sharpest tools in the shed.

"So, how do you say, 'What do you like to eat and drink' in French?"

_Random…_

"Why would you need to know that?"

"In case we have more French costumers, of course!"

_French people go to Tokyo, not… whatever town this is..._

"Ha-ha, yeah not all French people speak Japanese like you, Clara-chan! … Right?"

_No duh. I'm just weird. Just take a look at my bosses._

"… _Que-ce tu aime manger et boire?_"

"Wha-? Hey. Can you repeat that and say it slower, I can't understand a thing you're saying!"

_Oh god._

Clara has had people ask her about France, but not like the Yammamotos'. They're that kind of happy-stupid, that's almost admirable. Well, not really, but it _is_ sort of impressive. It's almost like their cheerfulness is actually bringing sparkles out of nowhere that cover their face when they laugh or smile… but that's not happening right now, right?

Sure enough, Yammamoto and Yamamoto Sr. laugh at a joke Clara didn't catch… and sparkles follow… And despite the up-right oddness and randomness of it, their laughter washes away gloom. The uncertainty Clara felt about being alone (at the moment) in a foreign country, washes away when she sees their genuine smiles.

They are something else, Clara thought, those two are something special.

"Hey are you going to try the sushi, Clara-chan?" Yammamoto sr. asked, pointing at his creation. Clara blinked in realization before picking up her chop sticks clumsily into her fingers. (FRENCH FACT! French people in France use a fork and knife for everything, even for burgers at McDonalds. When they see Americans use their hands to take a bite out of that Big Mac, they have a hilariously French look of shock and horror!) Yammamoto laughed at the sight and Clara's forehead twitched in annoyance. Clara tried to pick up a roll with 'FAIL' written over her head as Yammamoto continued to giggle.

"Stupid kid," Clara thought cynically. Clara fumbled some more with her chop sticks before she became fed-up. Clara brought down her chopsticks that were pressed together in her fist, down on the unsuspecting Sushi Roll viciously, like a dagger. A cold smirk reached her lips as she brought the sushi roll that was stuck on the two chopsticks to her mouth, and lapped it into her mouth with animosity as if she was licking blood off a knife. "TAKE THAT, STUPID KID!" Clara thought triumphantly.

Unfazed by Clara's overreaction, Yammamoto laughed again, "Ore, Ore, you take your eating seriously, don't you?" Clara fell out of her seat at the teenager's obviousness. "Yeah, you're a funny girl!" Yammamoto Sr. laughed along with his soon, the musical sound synced with his son's.

As heart-warming the scene Hallmark-ish was, Clara is annoyed because-

She is surrounded by idiots who must bath in obliviousness every morning

… Clara wishes she had a Dad as caring and loving as Yammamoto Sr.

Yammamoto Sr., who just like his son, thinks Clara is a teenage girl

Clara glowered at the third reason. CLARA. IS. NOT. THAT. SHORT! Argh! (Darn those French short-ness genes! FRENCH FACT! Average height in women in France is 5'1!)

Ignoring the stupid kid and his dad, Clara chewed on her food nonchalant, before her eyes widened and sparkled with amazement. A delicious over-flow of awesome fishy-flavored and oriental goodness came over senses of the French Maid. Clara looked down at her plate full of plain looking rolls, covered in seaweed before shoveling the delicacies in her mouth greedily, kind of like a rabid bear that over slept during hibernation.

But hey, don't judge Clara; this sushi freakin' delicious!

Yammamoto Sr. looked surprised at the girl's sudden denouement of his food, but he was pleased either way. He let a deep, hearty laugh. "Eat all you want! It's on the house!" the oldest one of the room cheered, "Now I really know how good I am! I'm able to impress a foreigner!" he declared proudly before disappearing behind kitchendoors at the back of the restaurant. His ever-cheerful on waved with a pleasant smile on his face.

Yammamoto then turned his head to the side to catch Clara's smile and clumsily shovel in another sushi into her mouth. Without feeling to, almost without realizing it, Yammamoto smiled at Clara. He really liked her; she could cheer him up in just a minute and she made good company. (Despite that she's, like, eight years older than him)

Even though she was much older than he was, Yammamoto felt like he could easily relate to this person without trying to. He felt he didn't have to think hard about he's going to say or do around her- it came naturally. There wasn't any pressure like he got at school to be who people wanted him to be, It's like as if he were with Tsuna and his other friends that he's so grateful to have.

He even liked the bizarre way she talked; putting more enthuses on the middle or ending syllables on words and her accent made it sound like she's saying everything softly and delicately. And also, her accent gave her a funny inability to say 'J's 'H's, and a really weird way she pronounced her 'R's- that sound doesn't even exist in the Japanese language! (No seriously go to Google translate and hear the way R is pronounced in French- it's so weird! It sounds like 'air'!)

"But she's another human on this world, suffering as much as every other person," Yammamoto perceived with uncharacteristic thoughtfulness.

"So, can I get about… nine extra-large boxes of sushi?" Clara's question came to Yammamoto unexpectedly. The Baseball-star gave Clara a brain-dead look.

Clara briefly wondered if the question broke the teen's brain with confusion, if not annoyance that was present on her usually passive face. "Great, maybe I should join the Varia! I'll be called the 'Brain-killer'" she thinks to herself sarcastically.

"… That's a lot of food." Yammamoto stated ingeniously.

"Yeah, assassination squads like to eat a lot! LIKE, A LOT OF FREAKIN' FOOD!" Clara's mind yelled at the boy. Thankfully, he couldn't sense auras.

Clara then realized that she didn't mention that she was buying this food for someone else; not just her! Gosh, Clara is looking like a fatty right now!

(A/N: To french people, being fat is worse than death. I know because I know one… it's kind of hilarious, especially when they're in the USA *smile*)

Before Clara could open her mouth to defend herself, Yammamoto spoke first.

"Oh, it's true then!" _wha-?_ "French serving sizes are really tiny! You must be really, really hungry!" Yammamoto smiled in happy oblivion.

Clara had the sudden urge to slap the boy for inquiring that the French government starves its people. Just what kind of impression does the Japanese have of the French anyway?

"No, Yammamoto-kun," Clara forced her tone to be kind-ish, and began to struggle with the lie at the tip of her tongue, "I'm buying this for my f-f-f-_family._" Clara felt a chill run through her from calling the Varia, her family. No, no, no, the mental pictures! THE MENTAL PICTURES!

Yammamoto didn't seem to notice Clara's extra hesitation to the word 'family' as he had a thoughtful look, as he held his chin in an adorable matter- "As in childhood innocence!" Clara defended herself inside of her mind.

"That makes sense! Honestly, I didn't expect a tiny person like you eating that much, even though you're twenty-two years old. Ha-ha!" Yammamoto smiled, not noticing Clara's internal battle.

"Yeah…" Clara agreed with reluctance. "Well, I'll get started on your order and I'll be out of your hair," Yammamoto called out as he walked through the same door his father didn't a minute ago.

"Japanese people are so weird," Clara thought, finishing the last of her sushi with her shop-stick daggers, "But, they're really optimistic…" she thought out-loud, barely above an audible whisper, "how brave of them…"

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

After getting lost (with embarrassment) in the moderately small town and asking an Elvis impersonator for directions, Clara finally made it to the hotel! "I wonder if I've been out long enough for this fish in the rolls to spoil. Oh who cares! Those sick bastards deserve getting sick!" Clara thought to herself with inner valor. (Even though Clara knows darn well the Varia or the Boss will kick her ass if they hear her say that out loud.)

After a couple fleet of stairs and asking for directions twice- (OH GOD! THE HUMILIATION, IT BURrrrrrrNS!) Clara made it to the door of room 110.

**KNOCK-KNOCK, **Clara's sounds were normal.

**CRASH! SWISH! BANG! ,** The Varia's was not.

Fran with multiple knives sticking out in random directions on his body appeared suddenly at the door that was stained with… mystery … juice… and was held open with Fran's arm with fewer knives in them. Fran motioned his head for Clara to come in as more knives embedded beside his head. This didn't even make Clara's eyelashes budge.

(Unfortunately, Clara's had more Varia than it takes an elder league person to die from.)

"Food" was the only word Clara got out before hungry assassins (minus Xanxus) attacked each other for the plastic bags, bringing their craziness into the hotel hallway. "Animals!" Clara muttered with disgust (and being a total hypocrite).

The Maid waltzed inside the Hotel suite and glanced around; in the middle of the room was the 'living room' that had a fifty-inch LED TV, a white marble bathroom in the back-ish left-hand corner caught her attention and a fancy hallway opening next to the bathroom meant bedrooms, and an unused kitchen was to the right.

"Hurry up trash, we wreck havoc in ten!" Xanxus called out from his spot in the middle of the room, his extravagant table with wine, steak and other delicacies adoring the shined dark-wood furniture. "Where does he get all this from? Is everyone in the hotel staff really afraid of him, or is Squalo the best second-in-command in history?" Clara thought while gaping at the classy setting.

"You. Maid!" Xanxus addressed rudely, ruining the aura of the elegant background, "Clean this damn mess before we come back or we'll have to go through the trouble of replacing you with other Trash."

"_Thank you for the blows to my self esteem, boss. I really needed that to lift up my mood. And you did, thank you so much" _Clara thought sarcastically before saying 'Yes sir' then grabbed a broom and started to sweep the dust/knives on the floor.

Not soon enough, the Varia and the Boss left. Not without managing to drop the red-velvet cake (Bel) on the ground or breaking those two vases (Squalo) - of course. (Clara didn't even know hotels served delicacies like red velvet cake… she kind of wanted some… damn prince…)

It was now two o'clock now, and the sun was beaming through the windows in the hotel suite that overlooked the small town. It reflected all the hard work Clara put in to make the hotel look like the Varia never checked in, though missing come pieces of furniture that was broken, and the pieces are far from fixable. When the Varia breaks something- _they __**break **__it._

Finishing up the last of the chores, Clara put away the cleaning utensils and sighed tiredly.

The maid only felt a little tired; since her jet-lag wasn't too bad from the super Varia-jet they took here to Japan. In just a day or two, she would adjust to the time change.

But hard work got her small body, and that expensive couch's silk lining seemed to ease her tired mind. And when she lies into it, her eyes closed. And when she rests her head on a fluffy pillow, her breaths become deep and slow. Before Clara knew it, she was asleep on the couch, never thinking once about her problems.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

A little girl, about the age of 7 or eight, judging by her appearance, was standing nervously at the Honolulu airport, alone. She faced a large window to stare at her plane that would be ready to part in fifteen minutes, her giant panda sweatshirt with panda ears adorning the hoodie and she wore jean Capri's and dark flats stood still in oppressed time as she stared at the flight that will change her life forever. A pink Hello-Kitty suitcase was gripped tightly in her small hands as she suppressed the urge to shake and cry. Business people walking around the enormous air port noticed the girl's apprehension, but did nothing to soothe the girl; they had a plane to catch, and the girl isn't theirs.

But, the little girl isn't scared- nervous; yes, defiantly. But she's beyond happy. No, that's not quite it. It isn't as simple as happiness or nervousness. The feeling more akin to meeting a person who saved your life, then crushed your hopes and dreams a little; dread, hope and wonder. It was something the young, immature girl could quite understand, but she knew meeting Clara again would be good.

"Tante Clara, we'll meet once again. Will you be happy, or sad? Would you be angry at me?" a longing to see Clara, and a fear of rejection edged into the girl's head.

She knows why Clara would be reluctant to see her;

Sorrowful memories of death, lies and hatred filled the little girl's mind when she thought about Clara, and also the single happiest moment of her young life, the reason she didn't end it all a year ago.

"You're the only one who loves me," the girl concluded on her own. It must be true, if her father doesn't talk to her, and her family has no sympathy or feeling for her.

But what if Clara changed, what if she doesn't care anymore? After all, this girl wasn't meant to be born- an unwanted accident. She shouldn't exist. But she's alive. … Would that be enough of a reason for Clara to hate her? It's only been another accident that she's coming here. She had no choice; the incident left her to die, or to live with her aunt Clara. But what would she think?

Not sure of herself, nor her decision, she eventually walks aboard the airplane, feeling numb and her senses dead to those and everything around her. She sits down in a daze and slowly lowers her back to touch the back of her seat with a corpse-like reluctance.

And through the nervous wreck of a body, the little girl falls asleep on cold, hard emotions.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Author's Notes-**

**The chaos is slowly coming, it really is!**

**And for dealing with my detail-OCD, I'll give you the name of another OC that'll come in later. I won't give gender, weight, height or appearance, just the name~**

**Charybdis**

**Yupp, that's all you get until the plot thickens.**

**Questions, comments and suggestions will be read and responded to… if you REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter Trois

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**-LOVE, PEACE & WAR-**

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_It seems like immortality is real. And, immortal life is possible._

_Furthermore, the frantic hunt and protection over the secret of immortality continues today- chaotically, violently, and all around the world, and yet absolutely shrouded in mystery inside the silhouetted world of the Mafia._

_But amidst the maddening 300 hundred-year-old secret conflict, some of the immortal Alchemists from 1711 Europe are up to no-good with their own personal demons and corrupted agendas during their time watching the all corners of the world around them, especially the parts shrouded by mystery, change drastically._

By: chibigurl305

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_"Is 'forever' measured by how willing you are to think about how far it goes, or… is it something much, much more?"_

_By: Anonymous _

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Chapter 3- In Which Eternal Means More Than Just the World to Whom the Subject Concerns**

Clara stirred in her sleep, as her face scrunched up in discomfort, and something akin to fear. Clara was having a dream of the most memorable day of her life- the reason she came back to the mafia, the first day she stepped unto American land, and the first day of many her sorrows;

**Clara stood too scared, too nervous to touch the giant, faded wood church door that had a haunting existence in front of her. **

**A ceremony was about to start. **

**A ceremony Clara could go a life time without even thinking about. **

**Noel, Clara's one loving, kind, smart and sweet sister-in-law (or rather, just sister) was lying dead in a decorated box in that room, behind the slightly splintering wood door that Clara's unmoving fingertips rested on.**

**Noel deserved a casket made from giant red-wood, engraved gold letters of a thousand kind words should decorate the coffin. She deserves to be buried in clouds up in heaven, and the world should attend to mourn over Noel's death.**

**Death…**

**Even now, it's hard to think about it; painful.**

**"How do I act calm when all I want to do is cry?" Clara wondered, feeling hopeless.**

**With a shaking breathe, and moist eyes, the teenage girl pushes the immense doors open. A slight draft follows and wisps Clara's dress around her knees. The silky and thin fabric's caress felt somewhat comforting on Clara's trembling body. **

**A tremor breath fell from Clara's unsteady lips a she briskly strode into the cathedral, and felt the wind behind her from the door that closed off the beautiful spring day that was outside, mocking Clara's misery. Oh, how she hates this cruel world.**

**The door closed with an ugly, dull thud, sealing Clara's fate.**

**Clara felt alienated, and hopelessly anxious. **_**These people are planning to bury my sister in the ground**_**, Clara thought to herself. She knew the deed had to be done, but it is still hurts.**

**The teen glanced around the room, containing fury and restlessness in her delicate heart. What she saw was both normal, yet terrifying to Clara.**

**Everyone inside the church looked almost identical, like clones; the Laforet family. **

**Same ebony hair glowed elegantly in the dim light in the cathedral. The same golden eyes shimmered inhumanly with keen intelligence, and perhaps showed something with no beauty behind it, something horribly inhumane and merciless. **

**These people weren't born; they were cloned to make perfect cattle.**

**Right down to the last gene, to the last cell in their bodies- even their **_**memories**_**.**

**Just like Clara, exactly like Clara.**

**The ages of the identical people ranged from teens to early thirties, equal ratio of man and woman. Clara walked up to a man that almost mirrored her appearance only that his hair was shorter and he had a masculine face and figure. Clara made idle conversation with him- mourning over the death in different grieving levels. The man told lies through his teeth on his forged condolences.**

**It was saddening, so not-human qualities in the falsely condoling words. **

**There was no wholesome anything in his tone, nor in his words.**

**Nothing was truly remorseful. Everyone in the room was exactly the same. No one cared for the death of the innocent woman. "Whoever knew love could be so dangerous," Clara thought acidly. **

**How cruel. Love is nothing than a sugar-coated lie, even in families, isn't it?**

**They all knew who killed her, some congratulated the man. Huey Laforet, everyone's father and creator, ordered her to death. No one would oppose him. No one seemed to have a heart or conscious to care. Clara cared, but she was too afraid to do anything about it- afraid of her own, personal puppet master.**

**But among the sea of black sheep, there is a pure white lamb, innocent in every way.**

**A little girl in a pretty knee-length white dress with frills stood in alone, everyone in the cathedral made a 'U' shape around the young girl, isolating her completely. **

**She seemed to be staring up at the decorated casket. She squeezed and twirled the dress in-between her fingers possessively. It must have been a summer dress, where maybe she had went on picnics with her mother and father, maybe she has siblings. **

**Maybe children are sentimental too.**

**Clara, let occasional glances from the man, to the girl who stood alone with her head facing one of the concealed corpse, unnoticed by the crowd of unemotional people that ignored her presence.**

_**What is she doing here?**_**, Clara thought as she nodded at the man's words, not really listening, and stole another glance to the side. Clara could only see the back of the girl's head. She had shiny ebony hair like everyone else in the room. **

**But she didn't seem like a Laforet. She was too openly compassionate... too human.**

**Deciding whether to gather attention to herself or not, Clara broke away from her dolefully forged conversation with a quiet 'excuse me' and walked up behind the girl. Thankfully, no one seemed to mind, despite their strong ignorance of the girl. **

**Cautiously, Clara moved to the left side of the girl, and saw a truly lost look in her eyes, tears covering her melancholy eyes and the rest of her face. Clara never seen such an out of place look on anyone like that. She pities the girl. **

**Her pity grows when she notices that the girl has inhuman golden eyes.**

**She is part of Laforet family, without a doubt. Yet, she's so young and in company of other family members. Isn't she afraid of dying? Doesn't she know that the people in this room have no qualms on killing her, despite that she is their flesh and bone, and that she's so young? Can't she see the bitter cruelty in these people's eyes?**

**Even though Clara has been standing next to the girl for almost a minute, it's like the girl doesn't realize she exists. **_**She really is lost**_**, Clara concludes. **

**"Hey," Clara said softly, letting her hand come on the girl's small shoulders. The girl jumped at the gentle touch as if Clara's hand was on fire. She turned around on her heel and her eyes widened at the sight of Clara. She wipes the tears from her face frantically with her hands. "Sorry, I was just… the… I…" the girl broke into a slight tremble that affected her voice. Clara noticed her tone seemed as lost as the girl's eyes. **

**She was truly in misery. She honestly mourns for Noel's death… but who is she?**

**The girl's face dropped towards the floor and her hands came together to press against each other. Feeling truly sorry for the girl's sorrow, Clara gave a small smile. "She could always use more flowers. Let's go out to get some more." The girl looked up, looking unconvinced. She looked back nervously to the crowd of people that were isolating her. "They won't mind. Besides, Noel deserves the prettiest flowers, and spring's the best time to pick." Clara pressed gently.**

**The girl slowly nodded in agreement and Clara began walking back to the door, leading. As she was walking, the girl suddenly grabbed her hand in a tight hold. Clara froze for a second, before continuing to walk hand-in-hand with the unnamed girl trailing behind her, her eyes downcast. **

**Pushing the doors open, the bright sun-shine hit Clara who flinched at the striking change of atmosphere. It really was beautiful outside; grass grew elegantly in the Louisianan country side, flowers scattered across the field that the cathedral sat on in a colorful arrangement. The vibrant sun shone on it all, and the wind blew through it, giving life to the vivid scene. **

**Clara gasped at the beauty surrounding her that she didn't notice through her earlier bitterness. Clara grasped the tiny hand that was firmly in hers a little firmer. **

**Perhaps it's not mocking that it's such a beautiful day on Noel's funeral. **

**Perhaps it's akin to a blessing. **

**"Noel loved carnations. They were her favorite flower." Clara shared the memory with the shy girl. The girl nodded, her face was at the floor. Clara would like nothing more than to know who this girl was, and how she knew her beloved sister-in-law, but she didn't want to pry the information out of her. The poor girl looked like she was about to cry again right then and there.**

**Clara guided the girl towards a little spot where some white Carnations grew and the girl numbly followed. The older of the two guided the younger into a kneeling position in the small patch of flowers. Clara picked with on hand, and handed the flowers to the girl who held them tight in her other hand, refusing to let go of Clara's.**

**Clara vaguely wondered how much the girl was hurting, to hold her hand in such a death-grip, but knew not to ask. **

**Clara knows it hurts to lose someone as loving as Noel. **

**It really does break your heart.**

**Clara caught the girl staring at the flowers, emotions flooding the open pools of her golden eyes that Clara mirrors in appearance, her innocence to the world so visible. It was kind of scary, seeing someone that almost looks exactly like you, but younger, seem so miserable. It's like looking at yourself in the past. And for Clara, there's quite intimidating. Not many things are as terrible. Maybe, death, but Clara's more concerned about the girl right now.**

**Clara tried to comfort the girl by putting her other hand around her own hand and the girl's that latched on. "Really, carnations were Noel's favorite. She loved them. She'd be happy to be buried with them."**

**"I know," the girl began weakly, "Mom-" the girl broke off crying, and crumpled forward. The girl's will broke. Clara held the girl tightly in her arms, her eyes wide and eloquent.**

**And it was then, Clara knew. Clara understood perfectly. **

**Clara's golden eyes turned glossy with tears, the warm, bitter-sweet emotions ran down her face as realization struck her with a cold, unforgiving hand.**

**It was rumored that Martin Laforet, who married a normal person- a non-homunculi, had a child. When they both ran away to Barbados, they supposedly raised a child. It was never clear if the child undertook the genes and prosperities of a normal person, or Laforet Homunculi, or if the child was even real and not made-up.**

**But now Clara knows the answer. It's understandable why the other ignored her presence. **

**The girl already lost her mother, to her technical grandfather no less, but now someone has to tell the girl her further pain of being born into the Laforet family. Those people inside the cathedral didn't want to involve their selves with a lost-cause; they happily let Clara do it. Now it's Clara's responsibility to open this Pandora's Box and tell this little girl that she no longer owns her own body. She has no freedom. Only the lucky are allowed roaming free like Clara, but yet your life is utterly controlled still, your fate as well. **

**A Blackbird in a wire cage with a titanium lock- and the devil has the key.**

**But her life has barely begun! The girl couldn't be over six years old… she's so young…**

**What will this child's future be like? What will be her fate of being such a misfortunate birth?**

**Clara never felt such sympathy for someone. Her life was ruined before it could start. Death, perhaps, is her only haven now. If she dies, then perhaps a heaven will be kind to her. **

**But would a god protect something that is not his own creation? **

**Clara didn't feel optimistic on the thought.**

**The girl is completely by herself. No one and nothing will protect her.**

**Not even death will save her from the misery she will go through.**

**"My father won't talk to me anymore," the girl sobbed into Clara's shoulder. **_**Probably by Huey's orders**_**, Clara thought bitterly, but shock and fear of saying anything to hurt the broken girl any further made Clara silent.**

**"I don't know what to do… I miss my mother" the girl wailed loudly, anger and fear showed in her voice. **_**Me too**_**, Clara thought, **_**you will probably never know how much you just said, was what I was wondering my whole life… the first part, anyway.**_

**Clara never thought she'd have a niece. It was reveling, and some-what terrifying, being even remotely responsible for another person's life. This little girl isn't a homunculus. **_**She's human**_**. She was born out of love, despite her dark future. She could have so much in her life. **_**But it just wasn't meant to be… and there's something missing from this picture**_

**Clara summoned bravery and swallowed thickly;**

_**Clara has to know, as Noel's sister and this girl's only Guardian.**_

**"What's your name," Clara whispered softly, her voice shook with a fear, a hesitation, a feeling that she couldn't really describe. Silence embedded itself between the world Clara was about to climb into. "Ciel" the girl sniffled, quieting down from her outburst. The name barely made it to Clara's ears. It took a moment, then…**

**And then, Clara felt the air leave her body, and she sank to her knees. The girl walked into her hold, her arms slowly making their way to embrace and to tighten their bond.**

**The day seemed less grim. There was a little beacon of hope in her arms. Clara smiled despite herself, holding a sobbing child who lost her mother. That mother believed that no matter what kind of troubles life may throw at you, there was one thing you could always count on, the one thing you always know it's there, existing eternally in beautiful harmony.**

**And Clara knew it was true- Ciel; the sky, never-ending and everlasting. **

**"**_**Noel, you were thinking optimistically to your last second, weren't you?**_

_**How brave of you…"**_

The memory faded away to a darker place in Clara's mind, as her breathing deepened in slight panic. Clara's hand gripped her blanket, and a single tear formed at the edge of her pressed eyes. A soft, barely-there voice whispered disgruntled sounds of dread.

A distant click and sounds came to Clara, touching at her subconscious wasteland…

Lussuria had only came back from waiting for Squalo for his mission when he found himself gasping at the sight of a sleeping Clara. And crying. As soon as he walked, he saw her slightly shaking form on the couch. "Oh, Clara! What's wrong?" the fruity man asked while shaking Clara's shoulder. It didn't take much for Clara's eyes to flutter open and a single tear drop onto the couch she was sprawled on as she woke up.

Getting up to face the fruity man, Clara couldn't help but to wonder what her dream was about… was it a dream? Clara wasn't sure; the details and feelings were slipping through Clara's mind like evaporating mist.

"Clara, you're crying! Let Mama what's wrong!" the fruity assassin pried with a concerned tone, still standing over Clara's form. "Hm? I… wha-…?" Clara fumbled for words as confusion hit her. _Crying_? Sure enough, as Clara reached up to her face, she felt wetness on her fingertip.

"Oh." Was the only thing Clara had to say about that. She _is_ crying. The last time she cried was at her sister's funeral though. Not giving that last part another thought, Clara wiped away the wetness with the back of her hand and stood up from the couch.

"I'm fine," She told Lussuria, who didn't look completely convinced, but dropped the subject anyway. "Well, alright. Would you mind helping me make dinner tonight, Clara?" "Eh, sure."

"Don't mess up, maid, or I'll cut you up." Bel threatened from his sprawled form on the couch with his Cheshire-cat grin. 'Well Bel's in a great mood,' Clara thought 'blithely'.

As if reading Clara's mind, Lussuria smiled lightly; "He's mad that he wasn't able to kill anyone today. That was Squalo's job, but he couldn't either, because a dangerous person came up and he was forced to retreat."

Clara raised an eyebrow at the explanation, but kept dismissed the issue as a Varia thing, and followed Lussuria into the kitchen before he suddenly stopped, causing Clara to hit her nose on his rock-hard back. (Despite his fruitiness, he _is_ a Muay Thai fighter!) Clara held her nose in pain as she glared at the taller green-Mohawk-ed man. "Ah, I forgot to get tomatoes and the pasta! Clara, do you mind coming with me to the supermarket?"

Clara blinked at the sudden invitation but nodded in the positive.

Clara remained silent all the way down an elevator and deep in a car parking lot until Lussuira reached a black Mercedes Benz, claiming it his with a beep of a car key. "You have a car?" the maid asked, titling her head in curiosity. "Oh course, sweetie." Lussuria replied with a wide smile.

"Wait, how did you get it all the way from Italy, to here in Japan?" Clara began looking inside the luxury vehicle. Lussuria only gave a secretive smile that made Clara very impartial on getting into the luxury vehicle. "That smile can make children cry." Clara commented towards herself.

Lussuria and Clara climbed in, and Clara found that the car was surprisingly neat… not that Lussuria was a disorganized man, but it does raise the question of 'where does he find the time between assassinations and other Varia chaos to keep his car clean?'

"Clara-chan!" Lussuria exclaimed with a concerned expression directed at Clara as he drove himself into a street, "Are you normally this quiet?"

Clara was stumped by the question; no one has cared about Clara for two years. It was touching and way too sudden at the same time. "No, actually, I guess I'm a little tired." Clara answered, not completely lying.

"Oh?" Lussuria hit the brakes at a red light, "Then let's have mommy-daughter talk!" the flamboyant man squealed in his seat like rabid fan-girl. "Uh, sure," Clara half-hearted agreed; the maid isn't going to decline a well trained assassin of anything anytime soon.

"Ok! First question~" Lussuria dawdled the syllables as he held up his pinky, his other hand on the steering wheel. "You ask questions like some sort of interrogation in mommy-daughter talks?" Clara queries inside her mind, slightly doubting the homo-assassin's sanity. Scratch that, killing people for a living is already bad. Clara is questioning the man(?)'s over-all conversation morals.

"Where were you born?"

"Nice, France," Clara answered easily. (Might as well tell the truth on that one, since there's no hiding that accent.)

"You're favorite color, and why?"

"Orange, it's uncommon in nature." Well, there is something about the color orange that makes Clara happy. (And no, Clara will not end up with some sort of sky-flame!)

"This sure is a long red light," Clara shot an antsy glance at the said light to check for deficiencies.

The fruity assassin held his chin in a thoughtful manner, "Clara~ why are you working for the Varia as a maid? Xanxus told us that you worked for the Ninth and asked for a job here, but I don't think you'd do that… so why?"

The question took Clara a bit off-guard as she struggled for a decent lie;

_"I just have a thing for assassins?" No, I don't need anyone thinking that I'm some sort of freaky masochist… Uh… something sad and tragic then… (?)_

"I was born poor, on the streets and I am illiterate and uneducated. I had no choice… but to work for the Mafia." That wasn't a complete lie (asides from the 'poor' part); Clara only knows how to read and write in French, and was in school for a short time and learned most of what she knows from intelligent friends.

"Oh god," Clara thought inside the confines of her mind, "I'm practically _am_ a street-rat! _Holy crap_!" Clara's calm face turned distressed radically by the realization. An emo-cloud followed.

Lussuria gave a dramatic gasp at the maid, mistaking her emo-ness for angst of the past. He pressed a hand against his face, ignoring the green light and the chorus of honking cars behind him. "That's… that's horrible! But don't worry- Mama'll love you forever! You don't have to leave!" Lussuria pleaded with dramatic tears falling from underneath his sunglasses, down his face and still not moving as the light turned red again, and the impatient drivers have resorted to death threats.

"Move it, you freakin rich bastard!"

"We got a real job to do, Mr. Mercedes Benz!"

"Gah, they're probably foreigner idiots!"

Ignoring those angry drivers…

_F-forever?_ Clara paled at the thought of working for the Varia as a frail old lady, _still _dodging bottles and _still _hiding in the corner whenever one of those psychos walk her way. **THE HORROR**!

Clara's soul was leaking steadily out of her mouth before she realized that the rather impatient drivers behind were starting to get out of their cars, holding blunt instruments yelling something about stabbing and their faces. _That_ just can't be good.

"Uh, Lu-" Clara began to address the forgetful driver next to her as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the angry drivers got closer to the car.

"Mama." Lussuria interrupted with a kindly smile on his lips, "Call me Mama, dear."

Clara's face went deadpan before just going with the flow, while wondering, _why is it that weird people seem to control everything?_. "Mama, let's hurry to the store." With that polite (?) request, Lussuria (-were those tears of joy flowing down his face as he sobbed out something about finally having a daughter?-) floored it all the way to the supermarket. The made it there just under a minute, running every red light in their way. (How did they not get caught? It's 'cause it's the Varia!)

Clara decided she liked Lussuria. He was actually really nice, and he didn't push you to do much; much to his alias, he acts like a doting, overly loving mother. Clara found this rather endearing. (Not that Clara knew about the behaviors of a loving mother herself, but she's been watching Korean dramas on her free time ever since the Varia had Korean Barbeque, and Boss threw spicy pork in Squalo's eye. The maid found the memory somewhat memorable.)

"Ah, Mama, are these ok?" Clara held up some Filet-Mignon in packaging. Like Xanxus will eat regular cut meat! Fifty Euros in worth or its total garbage, is something Xanxus would say. (Even though Filet-Mignon means 'cute net' …. If he found this out, someone will be shot- HARD!)

Lussuria smiled and nodded, and Clara plopped it into the growing pile of groceries… even though they only came to the store to buy like, two things…

ANYWAY, Lussuria seemed to genuinely care. He listened to your thoughts, and would give his opinion and advice when needed. … He really is like a Mama!

But besides a man-ish motherly figure, Lussuria became a friend. Clara came to understand that Lussuria was blinded by his mother, who was intolerant of gays, and when her son gained the courage to tell her, she threw a bat of hot oil in his face, blinding him. (Yes, he managed to tell his entire life story in one car ride.)

As soon as that happened, Lussuria left his home to train in martial arts, to become strong. Sympathy came first to Clara, then astonishment. It takes bravery and a lot of guts to get back on your feet after something like that. Clara feels like she owes the flamboyant man a lot of respect.

"Wow~ your purse is so adorable! Where did you buy it?" Lussuria practically shouted at a young female shopper, little hearts forming around his face as he squealed with the lady about fashion stuff as normal shoppers while Clara stared awkwardly out of place.

"It's hard to respect someone when they do _that_ in public." Clara tried to push her shopping cart away from the scene.

As the embarrassed Maid turned to a corner to enter to Pasta and Grains aisle, her shopping cart accidentally bumped into something that knocked Clara back slightly, and loud wailing followed- wailing, as in crying. LOUDLY.

Curious, Clara dipped her head to the side to catch the side of the body of a small child. "I just ran into a small child! I got to get away before its mom shows up! I CANNOT AFFORD A LAWSUIT!" were the sole thoughts in Clara's mind, not even bothering to ask if the child is ok or any other normal peoples' response to a crying child.

Varia, what have you done to this woman?

Clara could almost ignore the crying, when a sober high-pitched voice called out. "Tante Clara?"

Clara's body was frozen on the spot at the French word for 'Aunt'. As far as Clara knows, all her family members are either crazy, want to kill off other family members, or both. HELL NO. Clara is not going to deal with this today!

Squeaking wheels against the tiles of the grocery store could be heard as Clara walked faster towards the door (Where's Lussuria? Oh, Clara's totally ditching him.)

A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of Clara's face as her eyes were narrowed and concentrated on the haven/door. Yes, that would have been a good plan if the persistent girl tackled the woman down to the ground.

"Argh!" Was Clara's graceful sound as she fell on the ground (That rhymed!). "Killed by a crying little girl. What a life." Clara thinks to herself.

"I-I g-g-g-got l-lost!" the girl sobbed, pinning Clara's back to the ground with ease. "What's wrong with this kid?" was the single thought running through Clara's mind as she held her usual apathetic expression.

"Listen, little carrot," Clara began with a slight sneer, "I do not know you! I do not know why Huey sent you here, but leave me alone, little carrot, I mean it!"

(AN; French people insult each other by using the names of vegetables they don't like. And those vegetables are as offending as curse words. French people are so weird…)

The girl looked to Clara with a blank expression as if she was letting the information soak into her head. "You… don't remember me?" the girl asks, a hurt expression showing itself through a young tear-stricken face.

"_Should I_?" Clara started to freak out a little by the presence of tears.

"It's me, Ciel." Ciel, her niece, informed her oh-so casually. Only, it isn't casual to Clara.

_Not at all_.

For the second time in Clara's life, the name puts her entire world into a standstill. Memories of Noel, Huey Laforet, the funeral, and everything in-between those painful years came back to Clara like ice-cold water dumped over the heard, ice and chilled water running down everywhere else to numb her body completely.

"Oh. Hello, Ciel." Clara was proud of herself that her voice didn't buckle like her psyche was on the inside. The greeting to the girl who _**really **_not supposed to be here finally registered in Clara's head. "Ciel, why are you here? You're supposed to be in America, you do know that right? Is something wrong?" Clara's voice rose with panic.

The young girl's tears suddenly reappeared, "H-he's really sick… Dr. Hamilton says he gonna die!" At the mention of 'him', Clara's eyes widened; Ciel's father and her own brother, Martin Laforet is sick?

No way, he's a last generation Vampire Class like Clara, he _can't_ get sick. But if Huey decided changed to something in his DNA like the parts that make a Vampire's immune system so strong, then maybe Huey could have also had someone implant the illness inside of him; a biological assassination. (Notice how Clara doesn't seem to care that her brother Martin may be dying.)

If this is true, then Clara's death-date is closer than the maid is comfortable with. "So it's started, the hunt-down of the Vampire Class Homunculi," Clara thinks solemnly, then adds for her own comfort, "Or not."

A more optimistic and caring side of Clara decided to help her niece Ciel first, and make sure she gets home okay.

"I'm sorry your father is sick, I-" Clara said, sounding lame, much to her own anguish. She knew her bad educate would make a small child cry one day, she just knew it. DAMNIT!

"Father?" Ciel asked with a confused expression playing at her young features, "Mr. Hugo is sick." She told her aunt with a wrinkle of confusion in-between her eyebrows.

_Who's Hugo? Isn't that a man's name? …Oh god, Ciel has been living with some European pedophile! …NO!_

"Who-" Clara's question was caught off as a certain Homo-assassin stood over her and her niece's bodies that were still on the ground, his eyebrows low and his hands akimbo. "What are you doing to this young girl, Clara? Hasn't mama taught you better?"

Clara's tolerance level officially topped off at her own personal record. Being dragged to a foreign country, being with the Varia and meeting up with someone she's not supposed to see ever again, is not Clara's idea of a happy day.

Clara was about to correct (and not-so kindly) the flamboyant man that '1- he is not, nor will he ever be a woman, 2- he hasn't taught her anything, in fact this is the first day they're ever talked to each other during the two months Clara has worked for the Varia 3- he's a pervert for thinking that she would do something inappropriate to a child, and 4- SCREW YOU AND HELP ME UP!'

But before Clara could snap at Lussuria, she remembered that he was that one assassin that kills with his hands, and settled with a glare towards her 'mama'. Mouthing-off someone like Lussuria can only lead to bad things.

"Note to self; watch out for _HIM_," Clara thought with a fiery passion(?) as she pulled herself up and helped Ciel up too, all while glaring at Lussuria.

The little girl, Ciel, watched the verbal and non-verbal dispute between her aunt and the colorful stranger and thought that this would be the perfect time to introduce herself.

"Hi, I'm Ciel, and I'm from _N_'awlins! That's all the way in the east coast of America, but it's a big city and there's some real strange people there, and a lotta tourists, Mr. Hugo says they're nothing but leeches on the man's bee-hind, but I dunno what that means and he won't tell me, but all them tourists come and ask me if I eat gumbo, and shoot, I eat gumbo like a dang Creole with his Gris-Gris and what -" Clara slapped a hand over Ciel's mouth. Her own was shaped in horror in disgust. Clara never knew a human being could talk to fast! …so… many… combined sentences! And what's up with that accent? Why on Earth is she speaking Japanese? _Japanese!_ Why hasn't Clara noticed that before?

"Ciel, where is Martin? No, wait, I mean _where is your father_?" Clara stumbled over her words.

Ciel blinked innocently, then held a strained smile, "Oh, I haven't seen Martin in a real long time, so I dun really know." (If you haven't noticed yet, Ciel is talkin' in a New Orleans accent! He-he she be actin' Cajun!)

"You call your father by his first name?" Lussuria asked with skepticism, Clara mirrored his expression.

Clara began shaking in fury, as she clenched her fist. "Martin, you idiot! You left your only child alone in America to be taken care of by random locals and never bother to be a father to her? I'll kill you!" Clara ranted out loud and furiously.

Apparently for him, once your wife dies, it's ok to ditch your kid! Oh, Martin will **never **hear the end about this; Clara is going to make sure of that _personally_.

While Clara was having a mental-murder emotional turmoil, Lussuria decided to ignore her and to be himself in front of the little, impressionable girl. And inside the store full of normal civilians. (Even though they decided to live here in Namimori, which is a terrible place to live… _**please don't tell Hibari I said that!**_)

"Oh hey, honey! I'm Lussuria, one of Clara's bosses at the office, but you can call me Mama, sweetheart!"At least Lussuria had the decency to not terrorize the seven-year-old and cover up Clara's current job/her biggest current issue with something relatively normal. However, Ciel just stared at the Homo-assassin (ever notice that 'assassin' has the words 'ass' twice in it?) with eyes full of wonder…. Or is that confusion?

"Aren't you… aren't you a man?" Ciel asked bluntly, cocking her innocent head to the side as Clara tried desperately not to burst out laughing. Clara was making sounds that sounded like a dying goose as she waited to see what Lussuria had to say to _**that**_!

"No, I'm a mama, you silly safety-switch- I mean, you silly girl!" did Lussuria just confuse a girl for a part of a gun? Does he seriously expect people to think that he's a woman? Can he get any gayer? The world may never know.

"Ok!" Ciel's face brightened up at the thought of having a real life mama.

Clara's face darkened at the thought of her only niece thinking that Lussuria is your typical female mother. That just can't be good for that kid's mental health.

"Come on; let's go make dinner together, ne?" Lussuria beamed at Ciel, who in turn mirrored his expression like the little bratty kid she was.

Clara knew that Ciel going to the Varia base can't be good.

She tried to tell Ciel to run away. She didn't listen, and held hands with Lussuria as they talked and walked cheerfully. Clara then initiated operation 'M. S. V. C. K. C.' or, 'Make Sure the Varia Can't Kill Ciel.'

Clara screamed 'Rape' 'Murder' 'Fire' 'Assassination' and 'HELP!' many times to pedestrians and two cops that were in the parking lot of the grocery store. They ignored her, mistaking her shortness that she was a young person pulling some sort of prank.

And with a lot of bravery, Clara tried to fight Lussuria. He laughed when she punched him in the chest and just walked to the car as she kept attacking his back, to no avail.

While on their way to the Varia base, in the passenger seat of Lussuria's car with little Ciel in the backseat, Clara could only think two, very situation-appropriate words.

_Oh crap!_

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Fifteen Minutes Later…**

"I hate Lussuria. No, wait, I hate Martin." Clara had to remind herself that it wasn't Lussuria's fault completely that her **only seven year old niece **is in a building full of** mafia assassins**, that way she can refrain from trying to stab him with a meat cleaver. (And then having every bone in her body broken by Lussuria in the end.)

But, _why_ does Clara have a meat cleaver? Has the Author decided to make an interesting twist in the plot in the story and made the seemingly innocent maid as assassin too? No. It's because the maid was in the kitchen, doing maidly duties… with a homo-assassin and a little girl inside an enclosed room with no windows and various stabbing utensils. And more dangerous assassins will be in the same space any minute.

That… can't be good, can it?

"Oh, Clara! _You_ have the meat cleaver!" Lussuria smiled as he minced some carrots, "Me and Ciel-chan were looking for it."

"That's right. And I'm not afraid to use it." Clara muttered irritably.

"Huh?"

"Hm?"

Ciel seemed to be having the time of her life, ignoring all the strained feel of the room as she mixed the sauce over and over again. Ciel never had a mommy to make dinner with, so the little tyke is very excited… but the creepy thing is, Ciel was smiling broadly (almost ear to ear) with very determined eyes. Basically, Ciel looked like she preparing poison for dinner with a smile on her face. Lussuria seemed to think nothing of it as he continued with his cooking duties, however Clara decided to infer.

"_Comment ca va_?" Clara asked her hyper-active niece. (Translation; How are you doing?)

Ciel stared owlishly at Clara. Pause. Silence. Quiet. Hush (I'm running out of synonyms of 'pause', NO!)

"Are y'all speakin' the same language as them Boogalee, or not?" Ciel looked very confused. So did Clara. (Boogalee means Cajuns in New Orleans)

"A what?" Clara's eyes went wide, and considered the possibility that her niece is processed; it made sense, with her using all these weird words and speech patterns.

"Ushishishi~ looks like this little girl is an American Hill-Billy." Bel suddenly appeared behind Clara. The Maid nearly smashed her head into Lussuria when she jumped in surprise. Freakin' royalty.

"Did I scare you, pheasant?" Bel snickered. Clara glared at the stupid Prince, which only made him laugh some more.

"What do you mean, Hill-Billy?" the foreign phrase rolled on Clara's tongue clumsily. "It's a basically what you call a poor and stupid Americans that lives in the Southern States." Bel explained, never breaking his annoyingly creepy smile, "This one comes from Louisiana."

"_Why does he know so much about these 'Hill Billies'?" _Clara wondered.

He looked down at Ciel, and his smile got wider, "By the way… who is she?" Bel twirled a knife in his hand as he examined the little girl head to toe.

Clara gave a short sigh- is she going to have to try to lie to the insane genius, for Ciel's own good? "_But I can't just say I never seen her before in my life because_-"

"The little pheasant looks just like you, maid. Ushishishi~"

_Bingo_, Clara thought.

"Yeah, she's my niece." Clara said quickly, and ushered her ever-staring niece away from Bel. Unfortunately for Clara, Bel is bored.

"You have family? I thought you were some sort of orphan or some sort of tragic story for you living here." Bel mused as he followed an annoyed Clara. Her protective hands were clamped onto Ciel's shoulders as she hurried down the hall to her room (Yes, the hotel room is that big~) with her back to the psychotic prince.

"I killed all my family." Bel reminded Clara. At Bel's words, Clara made sure to keep Ciel out of arm's reach of Bel. Clara knew right then and there, for sure, that she was right about modern Royalty.

"Let me play with the maid's niece~" Bel managed to get past Clara by pushing her face into the wall with his booted foot. The psychotic prince held up the little ever-staring girl under her arms, with a big Cheshire-cat grin.

"Wow, Sempai is a pedophile." An emotionless voice droned.

Fran stood in the hallway, watching Clara's lips look like fish lips while being pushed into the wall by Bel's foot, and Bel holding up a girl who looked exactly like the stupid maid.

Bel threw a knife into Fran's arm in reply, as Clara struggled against Bel's boot to get off the wall. Neither seemed to make the emotionless boy bat an eyelash.

"The Stupid Prince is trying to hide his creepy fetishes. Not like this isn't the first, with all the knives and stuff, but now we're adding to the list of all your creepy, idiotic turn-ons. Pedophilia, huh? And with the stupid maid's daughter too. Maid-san, I never thought you'd sleep around in such a young age, _and_ 'working' for the mafia for money? How awful."

Both Bel and Clara were ready to kill Fran. _Slowly_. However, (since that annoying kid is still a Varia member) Clara let Bel have the honors of hurting him as he dropped Ciel on her feet and chased Fran down back into the living room. (And Clara felt sorry for him earlier too! Little bastard!)

"Y'all here in Japan sure do run around a lot. Is it something with the food?" Ciel asked her Aunt with her adorable face cocked to the side.

Clara suddenly wondered _why is that the Varia is so darn crazy_. Then, she decided she was way better off guessing than knowing.

"Sure, _petite carotte._" Clara answered in partial French. Ciel seemed to understand that as she laughed in her childish voice and said, rocking back and forth on her feet, "I'm no carrot! It'd take sum' sort'f Voodoo miracle for that ta happen!" her southern drawl sounded right for her voice. Kind of sweet and innocent sounding, yet sort of dumb sounding. Ah, Clara's little bratty niece~

"VOI! I thought you were going to make dinner, you dumb-ass, shitty faggot!" a near-deafening voice shouted at the front of the hotel room. At the deafening sounds, Clara and her niece's heads turned in the direction of the shouting.

"It's almost ready honey-bunch~!" a …erm…. Fruity voice called back, then the sound of something large and expensive breaking, then two very angry and masculine voices yelling at each other.

"Oh god, Squalo and Xanxus are back! And probably what's-his-face and Mammon too!" Clara picked up Ciel by her armpits and snuck quickly at the back of the hotel room for some sort of backdoor or fire escape route. No fire escape, but there was one, two foot window. Clara weighed her options in her head-

Stay here and have Ciel die, get hurt, or if the Varia doesn't kill her; eventually become as insane and Bel over time.

Jump out the window with Ciel, hope they both live, and if they do; get Ciel somewhere safe and then come back to the hotel so she won't be fired. Or get killed for being late.

Considering the first option, plus the idea of hiding Ciel in her room, Clara checked her pockets for money or anything valuable she might have brought with her to Japan, to bribe Bel and Fran. The Homo-assassin won't be problem, Clara is almost sure Lussuria wouldn't rat her out. But, alas, her wallet is fresh out of bribes.

Attentively, and while still holding a now-squirming but quiet Ciel, Clara peered down the window and see just how bad the fall would be… and it's… thirty-two levels of death. Nope. Not a chance in hell.

While Clara's brain was beginning to go hay-wire, Ciel wiggled out of her Aunt-grip and bounded down the hallway, eager and curious to meet the loud people who just walked into the hotel room.

Clara noticed this, and tried to make a grab for Ciel with no avail as she practically ran down the hallway. "_Get. Back. Here. NOW!" _Clara mouthed animatedly in French, her mouth looking like Pac-man, and moving her arm to her side like a water pump, which seemed to only amuse the little girl. Clara tried not to throw her empty wallet at that little brat she calls a niece. (Or choke her.)

Ciel magically seemed to not know French anymore as she shrugged her shoulders, smiled mischievously, and walked into the living room; which was full of the Varia.

Without sparring a second, Clara ran in after Ciel. By the time Clara made it into the room, Ciel was crying again, up in the air with the back of her Panda-sweatshirt in Levi's grip, with the rest of the Varia watching the girl in mild interest. Clara stopped for a second to look in awe at Levi;

_Oh, I __**was**__ right! Levi does make children cry! I'm so amazing!_

"T-T-TAUNTE CL-CL-CL-CLAAAAARA!" Ciel wailed loudly, breaking Clara from her thoughts.

Levi raised an eyebrow and was about to say something until a voice cut him off.

"Maid, who is this?" Xanxus was sitting down on his throne-chair, to the right of Clara and Levi who were in the middle of the room. (Everyone else stayed on the left side on the room for good reasons.)

"Um…" Clara wanted to say she never seen Ciel before, and walk away, but Clara could never do that to her sister's daughter. Ever.

…Even though this may cost Clara's job… life… and many other important things like that, Clara has nothing to lose! Not! During times like these, Clara wishes she was immortal. No, wait, never mind. Living and living without ever stopping, having time wash away all of your happiness and memories, friends and family away? That is simply no way to live. Clara will never understand the point of being an immortal, and that's no way of getting out of this dire situation…

…Of course, Cara can just run off right now, leave Ciel here, and hope the Laforet/Huey/Homunculi and the Varia don't find her. YEAH, WHAT A GREAT PLAN!

No, wait, Clara still has her morals… damnit.

"She's your daughter isn't she? I didn't know you were _that_ kind of French Maid!" Squalo's eyes were widened in surprise. Clara almost tried to kick him in the shin, if he wasn't a scary assassin (Clara wonders what Squalo would do if she told him that Assassin has the word ass twice in it?).

And within that six-second time span of coming into the room and saying one word, Clara was a decision away from being a faceless corpse in the side of the freeway here in Japan. See how much Clara come in contact with death? She seriously needs a new job. Or do a better job at keeping her cynical remarks from bubbling up from the largely French part of her mind.

Xanxus choked on the wine he was drinking at Squalo's accusation of Clara, and he put down his glass (Xanxus spat out his alcohol, AND put down his glass? What is this magic? Someone call the AA and tell them their efforts are not in vain!) He had a very serious look on his face as he stared down Clara… no literally; she shrank down in height from his fiery stare.

"No kids, in the Varia whatsoever. Kill it, or we kill it for you." If Clara was drinking something, she would have spit it out at the cruelty of her boss… no, wait, she expected this. Never mind.

"She's my niece, and she's leaving." Clara cleared the 'suspicions' about her with finality… which is rather hard to do in front of Xanxus, by the way, but he did seem relieved by the news.

Clara reached up for the lower part of Ciel's body, and Levi simply let her go when he looked to Xanxus for his coessential nod. Clara nearly dropped Ciel on the floor (Clara= worst aunt ever) before clumsily letting her on the ground (Bel snickered at this and Squalo kept blaming the French).

ANYWAY, with a lot of effort, Clara managed to get Ciel to the door. At this time, Xanxus began drinking again so Clara tried to hurry... by dragging her reluctant-to-leave niece by her ankles as she hung onto the doorframe with her two thin arms.

"But Christopher said he'll kill me if he finds me!" Ciel squealed in a panicked voice, her surprisingly strong death-grip on the doorframe. Clara was too busy to listen to her, because Xanxus 's smoldering gaze was on her and her very persistent niece. (And the rest of the Varia too. Creepy…)

Clara tried to pull harder on her niece's body in hopes of her boss's mercy. Thankfully, Ciel grip was torn from the wood (without ripping out the door frame with the death-grip girl), and with Ciel body in her hold, Clara raced down the hallway of the hotel towards the elevator so she can leave this hotel and find somewhere safe for Ciel to be…

"Daddy told me that you're in big trouble anyway! He be telling everyone to go find you, 'specially Christopher!" Ciel was reduced to threatening her aunt Clara so she could put her down, which didn't seem to work on her aunt. All Ciel wants is to stay with Clara, is that so bad?

"Daddy? I thought you called Martin by his name," Clara raised an eyebrow at Ciel who was tucked under her arm. She pressed the 'Lobby' button inside the elevator when it opened. The inside was also very, very fancy. "I wonder if I can pay for Ciel to stay in the elevator…" Clara briefly wondered.

"Not Martin," Ciel said, shaking her head animatedly against her hold in Clara's one arm, "I'm talkin' 'bout Huey!"

Clara flinched at the name, and fear was evident in her eyes. Slight anger rushed through Clara, at Ciel calling _him_ her father instead of her (also very horrible) flesh and blood.

"Oh… You mean he's angry at me…" _that's expected… _"So Christopher is…" Clara hinted her question quietly, while Ciel nodded with childish enthusiasm in the positive, unaware of danger of the situation. "What about Barbroso?" Clara asked the girl as they 'ding'ed past the second story. "I dunno." Ciel admitted.

Clara sighed out loud. 'Clara, you may or may not be hunted down and killed in your sleep tonight. Or maybe I'll just make you drop dead in the streets while you're buying groceries. It depends what how I feel…' Clara can almost hear his irritating Americanized voice.

Huey created Clara. He gave her life. And that's the only thing she's grateful for him. Couldn't he just leave her alone, and let her live the life he personally ruined? _Just a pinch of freedom_? Huey Laforet was never a fair man, nor did he care to give a second thought to the modern idea 'human rights'.

And then there's Christopher. Her uncle. Her very unlikable uncle.

"Hey, Tante Clara?" Ciel broke Clara from her grieving with an innocent tone. The elevator door opened, and both girls immediately (mostly because of Clara pushing Ciel along) began to walk across the lobby of the very fancy hotel.

"Yes, what is it?" Clara let her golden eye's gaze fall on identical golden eyes as she walked.

"Does Christopher scare ya too? 'Cause I dunno 'bout y'all, but he gives me the creeps!" Ciel exclaimed with wide childish eyes. As they made it to an empty hallway at their side that lead to an auditorium (yes, this hotel is awesome enough that it has its own auditorium.). Clara drawled over Ciel's words as they both stepped outside, cold air making both of them huddle their arms together slightly.

They both stopped, Ciel looked to her aunt Clara for an answer, as Clara searched for one.

Fear of Christopher? Clara certainly can't blame her. With all the things he's done, that man is a complete-

"Talking 'bout me behind my back, eh?" a deep, slow, and masculine voice read Clara's mind from behind the maid, who's back was to an empty street in the little town of Namimori, just outside the hotel. Not a single person except Clara, Ciel and the newcomer.

Something firm and cold was pressed against Clara's back, more specifically her spinal cord. "Move or scream, and I'll make sure you'll regret it for the rest of your life." The voice threatened her spinal damage joyously.

Realizing Ciel is also in this dire situation, Clara took a glance to the side, to see Ciel's wild and terrified face that had tears run down a large hand that was covering her mouth. On the hand, was a gold ring? Its head was completely black with a white gold 'L' on the inside of the setting. Very familiar.

"Oh... long time no see, Christopher Chareau de Red." Clara's very breath shook.

The 'click' of the safety switch on a gun was stitched off; a gun shot rang into the still 4PM air, a crash, and a shrill scream pieced the deafening echo of the gun shot.

And then… silence.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Newfoundland, North America**

**Alcatraz Prison, Cell no. 00000001**

The brick walls were cracking, and they're faults were covered in pure white and slightly reflective paint that hid the imperfections in the foundation. One man, who's been in this prison for a long, long, long time, finds that little fact very ironic for his on-going situation.

He recalls many years ago, the conversation with the cop who put him there; _you'll stay here until the prison rots away, and someone will let you rot inside another one,_ Victor Talbot, the founder of the FBI had told him. Forever is what Talbot meant, the man concluded that fateful day, and he has yet to prove himself wrong.

He suspected that that particular cop was sure that his plan was foolproof. That there was no way he could see the light of day again, if he locked him up. But they can't cover the fact that they can't imprison this man. This man is unbeatable, simply unbeatable.

He could tell the president to stop the war, and start a new one. He could kill hundreds of people with a single thought. He can shoot himself in the head one minute, and be playing cards the next. He can do whatever he wants, from inside a dirty old jail cell because he is an immortal; a person who through even human, earthly and other-worldly forces and endless amounts of time, cannot die.

How can you win against a man who has no reason to fear neither death nor the world?

It was ridiculous and absurd that people thought they could outsmart him. Only a fool, the man answered his own thought, but then added in his mind at the thought of a certain girl; _only a liar, like Clara_. The thought of his own creation trying to slip from its master's grasp seemed almost funny to the man.

The man couldn't forget Christopher either; he will be a problem. He always has been.

But; it doesn't matter. Even while sitting still in the paint-covered prison cell, Huey still has the advantage. He's waited hundreds of years, and he can wait an infinite ocean of time again and again. He could wait out the rest of Clara's life if it wasn't a waste of his permanent existence on Earth.

The only things that matter in the world are the endless quest for knowledge that no one has truly experienced like Huey has. Secondly, things that are godlike that last forever is only important; significant; notable. Huey knew this for sure. This was the reason he lived, waiting and responding to the maddening world outside his reach…

And in this everlasting life, Huey will make the insects of this rotting world will be cut open like pigs, and as they struggle to live their unneeded lives, Huey will make sure the last thing they see is him; the closest thing to a god that they will ever see in their meaningless existence.

Speaking of meaningless existences… Huey might have to kill Clara. Should he get Barbroso or some sort of poison-attack to end her life? A rebellious and soulless creature such as herself shouldn't exist at all… but… this could prove to be a very interesting experiment. The scientist inside Huey couldn't help with the curiosity of the reincarnation of _her, _AKA Clara, would do with the upbringing of the Vongola Decimo? And also the fight for the heir of the two most prestigious families in Japan, that is something Huey should have people keep an eye on for him.

Interesting, very interesting thoughts. This is something, Huey has been waiting for.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Author's Notes- THIRD CHAPTER- DONE! With a Cliff-Hanger!**

**Wow, and you're still reading! Yay! I got a lot of inspiration from my friends lately, so y'all get three chapters in just a few days. **

**Clara is in deep doo-doo, Ha-ha!**

**NOTE: OOC-ness on borrowed Baccano! characters… Christopher is supposed to be a fighter, but I made him crazy from all the years of being immortal (he was in his twenties during the 1930's) and Huey… is the same. He truly is that evil, twisted and cruel… Go Baccano characters!**

**Questions, comments and suggestions will be read and responded to… if you REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter Quatre

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**-LOVE, PEACE & WAR-**

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_It seems like immortality is real. And, immortal life is possible._

_Furthermore, the frantic hunt and protection over the secret of immortality continues today- chaotically, violently, and all around the world, and yet absolutely shrouded in mystery inside the silhouetted world of the Mafia._

_But amidst the maddening 300 hundred-year-old secret conflict, some of the immortal Alchemists from 1711 Europe are up to no-good with their own personal demons and corrupted agendas during their time watching the all corners of the world around them, especially the parts shrouded by mystery, change drastically._

By: chibigurl305

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_"The first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: __**Decide what you want**__."_

_By: Anonymous _

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Chapter 4- In Which Ciel Lives to Understand**

You know how they say your life flashes before your lives when you're about to die? That your soul drifts away from your body elegantly?

Well, Clara didn't feel so damn elegant with a bleeding body on top of her. On the ground. With a BODY pinning CLARA'S down on the FILTHY sidewalk.

Just then, Clara realized just whose body was on her, and she scrambled to get away from her Uncle Christopher's body, which had a giant burnt hole in his face and was still smoking steadily.

Clara's breathing hitches as she puts her palms on the ground, and examines the traffic-free street that gave an empty feeling.

Clara pushed herself up, and helped Ciel onto her feet. She was still crying hysterically since she first screamed. And boy, did she cream.

Apparently, Ciel had a scream that could rival Squalo's voice in general.

"Good thing too," Clara thought to herself, looking at her Boss, Xanxus; her savior, who was in the hotel room just moments ago, somehow. Said man was holding one twin gun in his hand, a smoke trail seeping from the barrel onto the empty street where he stood like a true bad-ass Mafioso.

Clara's respect for Xanxus would have gone up, if she didn't still feel so rattled from being that close to death; she struggled to breathe while she attempted to thank her Boss. Xanxus only kept his smoldering gaze on her as she tried to form words.

"X-xanxus, I… than-" Xanxus cut off Clara, using his gun to make a 'stop' gesture. She stopped immediately, out of force of habit "Oh god! I'm so obedient! What have these people done to me!" was Clara's mental reaction, though her face still couldn't match up to her brain.

Xanxus looked towards his maid, and felt like she had something to say, but she looked like she couldn't. Giving Clara one last look then walked over the body and began to examine it. Clara looked away from her boss, still shell-shocked, when something shiny caught her eye.

There was glass on the empty street. Xanxus… jumped out a window? "I guess that's how he got here so fast." Clara assumed. And when Clara looked up, she saw that a very high up hotel room window was broken, with the Varia looking curiously down. Clara waved at them, unsure what to do or say. Clara feels so empty; she could forget how irritating the Varia is-

"_French bitch._" a voice that suspiciously sounded like Squalo's said, with no other voice objecting

- Or not.

Stupid Varia…

Another gust of wind picked up and surrounded Clara, making her shiver. When Clara rubbed her arms together, trying to get warm, her shell shock ended. It all came back to her. Christopher Chareau de Red; her uncle, and the attack.

Sprinting, Clara dashed after Xanxus, pushing his chest back to get him away from Christopher's body. Xanxus was so surprised by the action he was actually pushed back some, but soon after he locked his feet on the ground and glared at Clara with rage that makes normal people shit their selves.

"What the fuck are you doing, trash?" If his tone of voice didn't kill her, his gun tip to Clara's temple will. Then, Xanxus saw something that made him lower his gun. Clara's eyes were filled with fear that wasn't caused by Xanxus (and yes, he can tell). Xanxus gave Clara a questioning look, when he saw something fly off of Clara's clothes. Then more, tiny black things flew off of Clara's clothes.

The body's blood was flowing backwards from Clara's clothes, Xanxus realized with eyes widened with shock.

"What the fuck!" Xanxus said, jumping away from Clara, as the body he just shot a gaping and smoking hole through jumped over the Maid's shoulder like a cat and landed in his direction. He noticed that the figure's collar and shirt still had holes in them, but the wound healed completely. More importantly, there is something dark and shiny in his hands that he keeps swiping towards Xanxus.

Xanxus recognized the weapons when the shone in the slightly fading, four PM daylight; two world war two bayonets.

Clara's eyes winded impossibly as she remembered something Christopher said a long time ago; _for some attacks, it takes me a few minutes to recover… but that's usually head wounds._

"And it nearly gave me a heart attack." Clara gritted her teeth at the thought.

"Christopher! What the hell are you doing? STOP IT!" Clara screamed at her uncle. Screw being scared of him, this guy is so psycho he just might forget he's homicidal. So, in a way its fifty-fifty gamble and Clara's willing to take the risk. And besides, he's trying to kill her boss. Clara's making extremely little money as it is! If the guy signing off her checks dies, Clara will have to live on the streets! (AN: Clara, you're an asshole.)

The previously dead man turned around at the sound of Clara's plea, and gave a smile that seemed to have too many teeth. Xanxus took the opportunity to shoot another hole through the man, but this time he shot with both guns, and he shot him everywhere. The bits and pieces of Christopher's body that was left were his arms, legs, and bits of spine and bloody flesh in the middle. His head and the rest of his body were burned off. The smell of burning human flesh made it to Clara's nose, making her gag.

Xanxus's gaze landed from the singed mutilated body in front of him, to Clara with surprisingly calm eyes. "Go back inside." Even Xanxus's voice was clam!

"So killing does put him in a good mood." Clara concluded under her breathe, and then thought in her mind, "THAT'S NOT HEALTHY!"

"Just who the fuck-" Xanxus stopped in mid-question, when the body of the man sat up again, and his injuries healed- AGAIN.

"His healing seems to dependant on his mood! That would explain a lot…" Clara began to remember her first outdoor picnic, turning her attention away from her Boss's safety.

"Listen, you **fucker**." Christopher's low, masculine voice with a British accent growled, "When you shoot someone, and you don't even know who they are, the least you can do is not shoot them again if they get back up!" He shouted the last part at Xanxus.

Xanxus decided the guy was an asshole, and shoot him again anyway.

Ciel was still crying hysterically, Clara was able to get 'shot' 'scary' and 'men' out of her very loud freak-out secession with tears. She gave an empty stare at her hyperventilating form.

The Maid looked between her emotionally scarred seven-year-old niece, and her uncle shouting insults at Xanxus while he shot him over and over again, and sighed loudly.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Inside The Hotel Room, five and a half hours later**

Clara felt like hiding.

It's horrible enough having your bat-shit crazy Uncle wake up after being heavily sedated with a liter of Chloroform, only to meet the people you practically live with, sharing (rather negative) conversations about killing. It's especially bad when your Boss (_**especially**_ Clara's) is giving you a glare while you keep getting bits and pieces of the blood-drenched conversation your uncle is sharing with a sixteen year old boy (Bel). And Clara is trying to pretend that all these people don't exist right now.

And not to mention that Clara had to explain how Christopher cannot die, no matter what. (It bothers even Clara when a bunch of people you know take shots at your uncle when he's still alive.)

No, Clara really has better days.

And the fact that Christopher hasn't stopped complaining since Squalo dragged him inside doesn't help either…

Oh, did Clara mention that Squalo tied Christopher up and dragged him inside through a filthy alleyway and up thirty stories of sharp stairs and then added more rope to his legs to tie him to a small wooden stool?

Well, that's what happened.

(Christopher shouted _**a lot**_, which is why Mammon used a very concentrated and very expensive Chloroform to knock him out. The fact that the Varia and Xanxus actually waited hours for Christopher to wake up was still processing in the Maid's mind.)

"**Let me go, you ugly **_**fuckingmotherfuckers!**_" Christopher's face was red with anger, and his eyes were deadly slits. The Varia seemed to be very unaffected by the insult and his anger, (mainly because of Xanxus's abuse) as they passed a bowl of potato chips around (Except for Levi, he doesn't get any.). Bel was the only one who responded to the British man; he laughed, and tipped the man and his chair onto the floor, which made Christopher curse and yell more.

"This Hotel security sucks," Clara said to Squalo in a low voice, once she realized how loud Christopher has been screaming since he was dragged inside. Squalo made a 'tch' sound and replied in a non-low voice, "That's because everyone in security at this hotel is now dead." Clara gave Squalo a cautious look and crunched on a chip loudly before turning her head back towards her Uncle.

"Tante, Clara, what's a motherfucker?" Ciel asked with confusion and innocence. Clara glared at Christopher, who was more than eager to glare black twice as hard. Clara slapped a hand over her own face and muttered, "Ciel, do you want to play with a big bouncy ball on the freeway? It's really fun," ,in a flat tone.

"Mou~ Clara-chan, don't treat children like that!" Lussuria chided, waving a finger at the twenty-two year old maid in a disciplining way. She gave him that 'I don't care' look.

"Don't listen to the fag! Go ahead, since you _**were**_supposed to get rid of it! Go ahead and kill the brat, but we're not gonna buy you a fucking ball!" Squalo told Clara and Lussuria in his usual volume.

The thought, "_Cheap bastards_," was hard for Clara to not say out loud. She was sure the Varia could afford ONE freakin' ball! And it's not like they'll never see it again either! After Ciel is run-over, they can just get the ball back!

No, wait… that's not what Aunts are supposed to think, right?

"Why not, Squ-chan?" Lussuria asked/cooed.

Xanxus answered Lussuria for Squalo.

(AN: what's this! An actual sign of friendship between Squalo and Xanxus, or a misleading action made by the Author? Or is this fictional proof that Xanxus has a heart? The world may never know!)

"It's because the maid almost died." nope, no friendship, but Xanxus just might have some sort of feelings for Clara! "Do you know anyone who has nowhere else to go? If you do, tell me, because I need more Trash that I can shoot at without getting a fucking blood-sucking lawyer on my back." Nope. No feelings either.

"So THAT'S why he hired me!" Clara said out loud with eyes full of wonder, like a child.

Xanxus stared at Clara as if she was crazy. She just might be, if she knows this guy who thinks he attack someone like Xanxus with no worries. Stupid not-dying man…

"So, why did you come here?" Mammon, being the usual investigator for the Varia (why spill blood on expensive floors where cops can get evidence, when you can just torture survivors in their mind?) asked Christopher, with a giggling and knife-holding Bel behind the tiny toddler's body.

Clara instantly perked up. "_Is Huey trying to kill me or not?_" -those kinds of questions are good to know.

"I'm here today, because Clara here is a grade-A _**BITCH**_!" Christopher shouted in Clara's direction from the floor. Clara reeled her back in disbelief in a "_really, Christopher?_" kind of way.

"That's my daughter you're talking to!" Lussuria put his hands on his hips, giving Christopher a disapproving look, and Christopher returned a very confused one; "_You're not a woman in the first place, you flamer!" _he yelled back, and then gave Clara a stare that says, 'you do know that's not what a woman looks like, right?'

"Besides, what could she have done that was so bad?" Lussuria cocked his head to the side (AN: Yes, I had to use the word 'cocked' for Lussuria.)

Christopher gave another pissed-off glare at Clara, who in return ignored his presence and continued to drink her tea (Lussuria brought everyone some tea, because he noticed Christopher's British accent when he was screaming at Squalo in the stair-well. Lussuria, being Lussuria, always wants to be a good host. The Homo-assassin is really like a mama, and makes awesome tea so everyone- EVEN XANXUS- was drinking some Jasmine tea.)

"Clara here shoved me, feet first, into a meat grinder! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT HURTS?" Christopher yelled so hard, that he was moving on the ground. His anger hardly went down since Mammon knocked him out with drugs.

Squalo looked at Clara with disbelief, "You pushed that guy down a meat grinder" while Bel seemed to be very amused by the story.

…creepy kid…

"Yes," Clara said, eyeing Bel with caution, "It was kind of dark at the meat processing plant, and when a man wearing black with sharp teeth comes up behind you to say something, you kind of get defensive. The only weapon there at the time was the meat grinder that was still on, so I pushed him in. I thought it was some sort of vampire attack!"

No one believed Clara's lie, and all Christopher could think was, "[CENSORED]"

There was silence in the room that sort of irritated and made Clara feel guilty at the same time.

"You deserved it." Clara defended herself in a low, guilty voice, returning to her tea cup that seemed much more interesting that her Uncle struggling on the floor like an animal.

"Ok, I admit it; all the times you've killed me, I deserved it." Christopher admitted in a serious tone, "But that last time I literally didn't do anything to you!" the last part he started to struggle against his bindings, he got a finger free a pointed it at Clara.

Everyone's eyes were on Clara now. "I thought you were a freakin' vampire! Don't come to me for personal problems like your appearance..." She answered casually, pouring herself another cup of tea and adding sugar cubes.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT! I PRATICALLY RAISED YOU!" Christopher yelled at Clara, and a vein popped on Clara's forehead.

"Shut up! You made my life a living hell!" Okay, Clara is kind of being melodramatic, but she just wants Christopher to feel bad and win this argument.

"Whatever, you crazy French..." Christopher muttered the last part under his breath.

Squalo seemed very annoyed, and yelled at a volume that made Ciel run out the room for the sake of her eardrums, "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?" (Clara AND Christopher is positive now that Squalo's voice-box is simply a medical miracle.)

Everyone in the room winced, and Xanxus took the liberty to throw a recliner couch at the white-haired assassin. Which everyone appreciated.

Christopher rolled his eyes when Squalo started to rub out all of the shards of wood and leather strips in his hair, then the British man opened his mouth, "Untie me first, then I'll tell you everything."

Squalo looked to Xanxus, who in return shot Christopher in the stomach, his blood spattered on the floor, but no one was disturbed by the act of violence. The gun shot broke his bindings and clothes while his blood flowed backwards, and his singed body parts healed themselves.

Christopher sighed loudly as he got up, perfectly fine, and made sure to mouth the words 'asshole' to Xanxus, (who flipped him off) and opened his mouth again, "To answer your question, I am Clara's Uncle."

The Varia gave disbelieving looks between Clara and Christopher, while wondering "How the hell/fuck are they related?"

"And basically, for pushing me into a meat grinder, I thought it was only fair that I cut off her leg. Or at least blow off one of her knee cap." Christopher said in an intellectual tone.

"How about a restraining order?" Clara snapped back.

Christopher suddenly looked very mad, "You know; you were always the type to FUCK PEOPLE OVER!"

"WELL YOU'RE AN IDIOT! YOU'RE IMMORTAL! WHO CARES IF YOU DIE?"

"HOW DARE YOU! WHAT KIND OF NIECE ARE YOU? OH, I KNOW! THE BITCH KIND!"

And more and more insults were flung between the two dysfunctional family members, as the Varia stood by and watched with mild interest.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

"Should we record this? TV shows with dysfunctional families is on the rage in America, and if we get this on YouTube we'll probably get some money out of it. Especially if we 'accidentally' throw in a knife between them." Mammon suggested to Xanxus as they watched the two family members argue. Bel was already with a video camera, waiting for the boss's 'yes.' Or rather (and more realistically), 'Whatever, get out of my face, fucktard.'

Xanxus just groaned in his Throne-chair, threw his tea cup on the floor, and muttered back, "The stupid maid is the only maid here. If she gets hurt, you're all going to have to do stuff for yourselves."

Everyone seemed to understand the seriousness of the argument now, and the stupid Maid's safety, but…

"Xanxus, why did you throw that tea-cup on the ground?" Squalo asked his damn, shitty boss in confusion.

"…" Xanxus didn't answer, (throwing expensive things is more of a force of habit than anything else) as he put a hand under his chin in the kingly way he always has it. (Insert Squalo saying 'Damn, shitty Boss!')

He still couldn't believe that Clara could get angry. He's never seen her tiniest bit angry… it's kind of amusing, since she only comes up with insults, but never gets physical. What a Frenchwoman.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

The two family members argued some more, before Clara jumped back and stared her uncle in the face. "ALRIGHT!" Clara shouted, with both of her arms to her sides. "I admit it, it was uncalled for! Just shut up already!"

Christopher looked very smug, "I'm glad you see it my way," he patted Clara's head roughly (didn't he try to kill her first?).

Everyone else in the room couldn't help but to wonder if Christopher was a bipolar man.

In the corner, quiet (until he has the opportunity to insult that stupid prince), Fran was always interested in immortality, and when Xanxus said this man was immortal, he just had to ask, "You look old enough to be Clara's father, so you became an immortal recently?"

Everyone gave Fran a blank stare, which he, of course, didn't bat an eyelash.

"Wow, Fran thinks he looks that old?" Clara thought to herself with a raised eyebrow. Clara then inspected Christopher's face: evil looking eyes, long chin, British nose…

CONCLUSION: Christopher, despite being a ninety-year-old, doesn't look a day over 25. But he does look like a crazy person. Does craziness… generally make people look older? Bel looks his age…

Clara gave Fran a look; "Does he really look like he could be my dad?" Christopher doesn't even give off that 'old fart' vibe either. Fran must have finally gone insane from that entire illusionist's training. Or from being around Bel too long. Now, only to figure out if that's a good or bad thing, with him doing all those powerful illusions all the time for the Varia…

Clara was thinking hard, and therefore as useless as a thought bubble in an Anime, so Christopher broke the silence, "You do know that Clara is twenty-one,"

"Twenty-two," Clara corrected immediately, breaking herself from her thoughts.

"… Twenty-two, right?" Christopher looked at everyone in the face.

Squalo then spat out the hot tea he was drinking onto Levi's general face ("AURGH! HOT! IT BURRNS!" but no one cared enough to say anything, not even Christopher who doesn't even know Levi) and spun his head over to Clara, "THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL THAT FRENCH RUNT IS MY AGE!"

"What kind of over-dramatic tea-party is this?" Clara ignored Squalo's question completely and drank her tea. "The kind that makes you stronger." Christopher answered his sarcastic niece. "Or stranger." Clara added… sarcastically.

"Ushishishi~ this is very amusing~" Bel sang from his spot on top of the couch, being careful to 'accidentally' spill some hot tea on Fran's face, who was sitting below him.

The tea was steaming on his face, but Fran didn't even flinch. (Weird kid) "Stop wasting your food, Sempai. I thought you were a genius, not a child. Boy was I wrong about you." Fran's frog-hat got eleven more knife-made holes.

A certain crazy man with burn holes all over his shirt watched Bel and Fran with distaste, "You left the Laforet family… for these guys?" Christopher asked in disbelief.

Christopher has known Clara for a long time. He helped raised her. And therefore, he knows a lot of about Clara. He knows she hates being used as like, well, basically a slave, and Huey Laforet, and the immortal conflict, BUT- how is living with a bunch of crazy homicidal people any better than the Laforet?

"Well…" Clara began, without much if an answer. The way she ended up here was all affected by all sorts of people and events, sudden and powerful emotions that made her do drastic things, but she can't exactly remember anymore. The details were like water through her fingers.

"… I don't have to answer you," Was Clara's childish resort.

Christopher stared at Clara, emotionless, before smacking her over the head- hard.

This may seem like a strange family relationship, but having two very selfish people like Christopher and Clara together, family or not, is never a good thing in the first place.

"So basically you came here for revenge for pushing you into that meat grinder?" Clara asked, now completely relaxed (even though the guy she's sitting next to tried to kill her a few hours ago.)

"Yeah, but I kind of overreacted. Oh well. No harm done." Christopher dismissed the entire attack like he only brought the wrong sandwiches to a picnic. Not misleading at all.

(AN: especially when you fool the audience that you actually want to kill Clara over your mood swings! Seriously, man-period much? You: STOP INTERRUPTING THE STORY! AN: GEEZ! Alright, alright, I'm leaving, I'm leaving…)

"Of course not, Christopher. You didn't just scar Ciel's young, impressionable mind, not endanger my job availability to myself. In fact, you're presence has only made things more fun. Now that we're all here, let's get out the champagne and party!" Clara replied using Level French sarcasm and adding an equally fake smile.

Christopher blithely ignored Clara, and turned his head to glare at Squalo, "And also I noticed that Clara's birth certificate and information was tampered with, when I messing around in the world data-files a couple of days ago." As Clara's face reflected a very shocked and confused expression at the announcement. Squalo shouted something back at (or rather IN) Christopher's face that sounded like "Don't blame me you asshole!"

Mammon spoke up, "No, I hacked into Clara's accounts and changed her information around. We needed to change her birth date." He said in a 'oh yeah, I forgot to tell you' kind of tone.

"WHAT?" Clara exclaimed, jumping forward in her seat, looking appalled. Clara expects a lot from these people, but changing someone's birth date for no reason? Now that's just not okay.

"Well, you're going to enroll you in a school, so you are now sixteen years old by law… and by the way, I changed your last name to 'Dupont'" Mammon said, and it seemed like only Christopher and Clara were mortified by all of this.

"Why on earth am I going to school? I'm twenty-two! And why is it necessary to change my last name?" Clara shouted in exasperation and mostly confusion. If you're going to commit a crime, it's going to be for an actual, logical reason, right? (Excluding Bel and his… Bel-ness.)

"So, no one explained the mission to you yet?" the floating toddler(?) asked in a bored, monotone voice. Clara tried to remember, and unconsciously looked at the Varia and Xanxus, maybe to help jog her memory.

By that time, everyone but Fran, Mammon and Squalo were left. Xanxus was in the kitchen (and we all know what he's doing), Bel is playing video games, Lussuria was… doing _something_… and… _is there _someone else in the Varia? No? That's it? Oh, ok.

Nothing about the actual reason Clara was kidnapped into Japan crossed her mind when she watched the criminally insane assassination squad doing 'normal' things.

"No." Clara answered the floating baby. Mammon huffed in annoyance, and he rose slightly in the air, as if he were taking a big breath to explain.

"You are going to spy and keep an eye on the two biggest Japanese business families' heirs. Starting tomorrow, you are going to Ouran and make sure you're always around to hear both of their conversations, et cetera, et cetera…" Clara wasn't sure if Mammon was using a French phrase to mock her further just to annoy her, because it's already kind of ridiculous that CLARA is going to be a freakin' SPY! Where, in Clara's Maids' job description, does it EVER mention spying?

This is absolute ludicrous! Clara has half a mind to finally call a lawyer!

Unless…

"Do I get a raise?" Clara asked with her golden eyes bright and open with hope.

"No." Squalo and Mammon answered at the same time, and somehow from his room, Bel chimed in, "Poor, day-dreaming pheasant ushishishi~."

"Now it's _really_ not worth it!" Clara said aloud with horror at the mental image of her doing this, without being paid extra. It wasn't good- _at all._ Clara's mind then crossed with the appealing idea of quitting and running away to a different country. But, it really doesn't sound like Mammon, or the ever-angry Squalo is giving Clara a choice. And, the Varia has one of the best Search-and-destroy equipment in the world. If Clara had to say it herself, she would say…

"I'm being forced to do this." Clara concluded out loud, deadpan, and Squalo snorted, and got up to leave with Mammon following. The baby floated by the under paid Maid, not without saying a very hurtful, "That's right." And floated off doing… whatever Mammon does on his free time…

(AN: That's right, I'm not creative enough to think of something funny for Mammon to do on his free time, except the cliché 'count in his money' bid. You: SHUT UP AND LEAVE ALREADY! AN: …)

Clara blinked hard, and then added more force on her eyelids, hoping that this entire day would end up just part of a too long and too horrible nightmare. Unfortunately for her, it was real.

Feeling like she was thoroughly deceived, she turned her head to the side to check up on Christopher, just to ask him if he was part of this plan also. Or, perhaps ask for some help.

But no- Clara only lost the little trust she had for the man.

Christopher already lost interest in her whole situation and was boredly watching Bel play his video games. He looked like he just ate dinner with too much meat. "Thanks a lot Christopher. I always knew I could count on you." Clara thought sarcastically.

Clara rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers, and just realized that Ciel was not in her sight. Turning around on the couch, Clara spotted Ciel asleep in the hallway. On the wall next to the hallway, was a clock that read '12:47'.

"Oh no! What am I going to do with Ciel?" Clara exclaimed to herself, she turned to her Uncle, looking for help… oh.

Clara turned to a very empty place on the couch, and an open window less than ten feet away. Clara then noticed a paper note on the armrest of the couch, which read,

_I read your mind, and I'm no baby sitter. Deal with the brat yourself. I'll come back and see you when I feel like it. Try not to die while I'm gone. And don't run away from your problems again, you coward._

_-Christopher_

Clara tried not to destroy the note right then and there, but her French pride prevented her from doing so. Coward? Clara could prove Christopher wrong. Definitely.

And maybe one day learn to write as fast as him one day.

BUT- right now, Clara only wants to get Ciel a safe place to sleep… and she thinks she knows just the place…

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

This- is not going how Clara planned.

First, Ciel is a lot heavier than she looks, especially on Clara's back. Carrying the dense in mind _AND_ body girl might as well be lifting sandbags.

Second, Clara totally forgot where Yammamoto lives.

And lastly, despite having golden colored eyes like a cat, Clara cannot see in the dark.

Yupp, that's right. Clara is planning on leaving her niece with a total stranger over her bosses and employers during the middle of the night, but Clara's reason for doing so actually made sense.

Kindly Japanese teenager or crazy, homicidal Italians? Honestly, which one would you choose?

"Maybe Yammamoto and Yammamoto Sr. will excuse me for coming to their house past midnight." Clara stayed optimistic.

The Japanese night air was calm, and cool. A little humid, but Clara's not complaining. (Which she does, a lot.)

Clara went further into the Japanese town, and guess what happened?

Sudden midnight rain showers to lighten the mood? Yes; the hard, long and unforgiving kind of rain too. Thinking about her 'not-so-well-thought-out' decisions so far, Clara began to think, 'maybe, the Varia isn't that bad?'

…

… Wow… who is Clara trying to fool?

'Ha, and I'm the richest girl in Europe!' Clara snorted at her own stupidity.

In fact, Clara realized the stupidity in her situation.

"By god, I'm a full grown woman! Being lost in the rain is so embarrassing!" Clara could slap herself, if she was crazy.

Just then, Ciel picked the perfect time to (FINALLY) wake up, since, you know, it's raining cats and dogs? And it's in the middle of the night, so everything is extremely cold, especially the rain? And not to mention that Clara has been staggering because of all these conditions + Ciel's weight.

Clara felt Ciel's small and thin body move against her back as she broke away from her nap-time.

"Mmm," Ciel muttered, her eyes clinging to sleep as her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, "Why… why we be in da shower?" she said in more of a New Orleans accent that usual.

"Because we smell funny." Was Clara's humorless reply. Was Clara pissed, and putting all her frustrations on a little girl? Probably.

Ciel was silent for a moment, before she blew a wet piece of hair that was stuck to her face, out of the way, but the downpour of the rain stuck it right back to the cheeks. "No, wait, this ain't the shower! We're outside! In the rain!" the realization dawned on Ciel who wore an expression between anguish, realization and confusion. The little girl began shaking Clara shoulders from behind, shouting over the sound of the rain, "I think we should get indoors!" the little girl suggested intelligently.

Clara was very mutual to the idea. "Besides, you're really wet, and you're movin' too much and y'all makin' me all nauseous!" the little girl added with childish disgust.

Yes, what a way to thank the person who's been carrying you to sleep and hopefully stay at a safe place! No, wait… Did Ciel say nauseous? A slight rumble in her tummy against Clara's back set Clara into a panic-attack.

A puking child? No way, nuh-uh!

"I'm putting you down right now!" Clara shifted her body backwards to let the girl jump down, put she hung on tight.

"NO! I don't want to get my feet wet!"

"And I don't want to get thrown up on! Get down, get down!"

"No! I'm really tired too!"

"So am I, Ciel!"

While Aunt and niece argued, Clara trying to look Ciel in the face, who held Clara's neck in a choke hold, which made Clara walk around in tight circles, which in turn made Ciel more nauseous which freaked out Clara more, and the cycle continues. (And they're also getting very cold, spinning in the rain like that.)

Ciel was about to actually throw up, and Clara was ready to scream in terror, when a new voice cut in.

"What are you two doing out here?"

Neither Clara nor Ciel could make out the voice exactly with the loudness of rain drops hitting the ground, but they froze at the sound of the voice shouting.

Slowly, Clara with Ciel still on her back turned around to face a dark figure, which stood across the street.

"HI! HOW Y'ALL DOIN'?" Ciel said brightly, her young, childish eyes wide.

Through the slight curtain of rain, Clara squinted and made out a tallish outline of what seems to be a male.

"Wait there!" the boy (Clara was able to confirm his masculinity by now) opened up a door, which let light flood unto the hopeless duo for a moment before closing.

Clara sighed loudly; normally she'd turn down the kindness of a stranger, but this time… yeah, it's still embarrassing that a full grown woman let this happen, let's leave it at that.

"Don't be embarrassed that you got us lost! Just because you're an adult, doesn't mean you're perfect! Besides, how old are you? 16? 17?" Ciel tried to be nice, she really did, but it just didn't come out right.

Annoyed and offended by the innocent seven-year-old, she ignored the age comment, and snapped back, "How would you know if I got us lost? You were asleep the entire time."

Ciel huffed in reply and muttered something about an evil aunt and Cinderella.

A moment later, the male figure came back with two umbrellas, and ran over to the duo.

"Here, I got some umbr- Clara?" the voice asked, in an all too familiar voice.

With an umbrella over her head and the stranger's, Clara was able to make out the kindly stranger; Yammamoto Takeshi.

Really, she should've guessed it.

"Thank god! Yammamoto, may I come inside!" Clara practically begged, as she ringed her uncomfortably soaked shirt.

"Me too, me too!" Ciel chimed behind Clara, waving an arm hard and high to make sure this 'Yammamoto' person can see her.

Yammamoto just smiled that cheerful smile, let both girls under his big umbrella, put his arm around Clara's shoulder and lead them inside the sushi shop, with a "Sure thing!"

Even though Clara and her seven-year-old niece were drenched to the bone with freezing cold rain water, in the end Clara was right, and she found Yammamoto's house.

(Oh yeah, and her young niece won't die of hyperthermia.)

And that's all that matters.

As expected, Yammamoto and Yammamoto Sr. were kindly, lively, charming and gave Clara and Ciel hospitality equivalent to the Swedish. They let her and Ciel use dry towels, and drink tea, they fed them, and even put Clara and Ciel's wet shoes by the medium-set stove.

But, now it's time to ask the big question and ask to free-load. And man, does Clara hate doing this to nice people.

"Messieur Yammamoto, thank you for everything you did for us, but may I ask if it is it all right if Ciel stays here. I'll pay for rent and everything." Clara half-heartedly added at the end. Dang, she was going to ask for a loan from Mammon again! Stupid, floating, loan-shark baby! _Maybe_ she could pay off the loan before the interest gets to her, if SOMEONE would give Clara the raise she deserves. (Like that'll ever happen.)

Yammamoto Sr. held a sake drink halfway to his lips, with his son drinking a glass of milk next to him at one of the empty restaurant, both mirroring each other's blank, thinking expression.

"You don't have to be so formal about it! Of course she can stay! You're a pal here now, since you're our customer!" Yammamoto said brightly and gestured to the entire restaurant.

It never quite felt so good about spending money on raw fish before.

"Thank you!" Clara let a breath of air, full of anxiety, leave her lungs.

"It's so great that we get to meet this little kid!" Yammamoto smiled and ruffled little Ciel's damp hair, who giggled in respond.

"Y'all Japanese people are real nice!" she beamed at the food she hasn't devoured yet.

"Yes, I'm happy too… and I'm sure you're very proud of her." Yammamoto Sr. added in a polite and careful tone.

"Hm?" Clara cocked her head to the side, leaving a chopstick in her mouth.

"I know its hard talking about these things, but we won't judge you for having a child young, miss." Yammamoto made an 'understanding' face and clamped an unneeded hand on Clara's shoulder.

She returned a very flat stare.

It was like he was sure she had a baby when she was sixteen. At least he didn't think she _was_ sixteen. It doesn't even make sense if her 'daughter' is seven years old, and she is sixteen or seventeen. So, at least Yammamoto Sr. isn't brain-dead.

"Why does everyone think I'm a mother? Do I just give off that vibe, or do I look like some sort of slut somehow?" Clara couldn't help but to wonder. People are so pessimistic; they could at least call Ciel her little sister or something!

"That's… your daughter?" Yammamoto asked with wide eyes and mouth agape.

"Thank god Yammamoto doesn't think of me like that." Clara thought.

Ciel raised her eyebrows as far as they could go, "She's my auntie, 'cause I dunno what y'all are talkin' 'bout!" Ciel confirmed that Clara's reputation was, in fact, not in the mud.

Suddenly, both Yammamotos seemed very embarrassed as Clara gave them 'it's ok, don't worry about it' looks. (Since they're both idiots, Clara will let this one slide without her insulting them… at least not insulting them out loud and meaning it.)

Clara caught Ciel, swaying slightly, and yawn when she remembered why she was here again.

Clara gave an appreciative smile, sort of hoping that the Yammamotos could tell that this was the first kind thing someone has done for her in years. Though, with these bone-heads, she didn't expect much.

"Well, it's very late already, so I'm going to get Ciel to bed." Clara announced, as she dragged Ciel by the wrist upstairs. The Yammamotos smiled and began to clean up the restaurant, and setting up the chairs once Clara got up.

As the two made it up the stairs, they shouted back goodnights and sleep tights, everything Clara expected a small, normal family to say. Well, besides the absence of a wife and mother in the Yammamoto residence, but Clara feels like that is something she shouldn't try to dig up.

Ciel followed Clara quietly, swaying slightly with each step from sleepiness, but the firm grip on her hand kept her from falling down.

After opening a few doors, Clara found what looked like the spare room the father and son duo mentioned while they were drying up.

Ciel was asleep by now, hanging by her aunt's grip on her one hand. (Clara was lifting her off the ground, not dragging her through Yammamoto's house- seriously.)

Gently, Clara lifted her and set her on the comfortable bed in the middle of the modest room, and put the blankets and covers on her.

And for some reason, Clara began to wonder just who this girl was. Of course, she is Ciel Laforet, daughter of Martin and Noel. That bratty kid who's spoiled rotten. She was the little girl with the crazy accent. She was the little girl who could talk forever at Moche Five speeds.

But, there is something more, isn't there?

Clara took in Ciel's tiny face that was void of everything dangerous or bad in the world. Her eyes closed, she almost seemed blind. Innocent, yes. Naïve… also yes.

BUT- _there really is something more_!

Ciel is special, Clara knew that. She was born; she might have a soul that can be reaped one day. She's the closest to a real human being in Homunculi history since the 1940's.

She was tiny beacon of hope; her name was proof of that.

As if she was hearing Clara's thoughts out loud, Ciel turned in her sleep, and blinked her eyes open slowly. She watched her aunt who didn't move from her room, with slow, drossy eyes that had a vacant quality to them.

"Hi Tante Clara." Ciel muttered lowly, shifting her head towards Clara more.

"_Salut _Ciel." Clara greeted casually, waving awkwardly. (Salut; "Sah-Lou"= informal way of saying hello in French.)

Ciel closed her eyes again, darkness took over her world again, but she was still awake.

"Tante Clara… you were at the funeral, weren't you? I remember you…" Ciel drawled tiredly, but something in her face made it seem that she was determined.

Clara didn't understand what Ciel was saying, until the vision came back to her; Noel, the casket, the flowers… and Ciel.

"Yes, I remember you too." Clara answered, not sure where her young niece was going.

"Then you know my mama? How was she like?" Ciel's eyes were still closed, but her voice was no longer sleepy. Her high-pitched voice had a very serious connotation to it, a dreamy tone too.

Clara couldn't just answer that. Noel… was not just a person to Clara. She was someone she loved and admired; her only true family member she was proud of.

She was a good person, but she had flaws too. She was beautiful, but she was shy about it. She was smart, but there many things she didn't know about. Some people would say she was an average person, Clara thought she was the perfect person. She was strong, brave in her own way.

"Noel… she… she was a good person." Clara lamely answered Ciel, wishing she could say more about the poor young girl's mother. Ciel shifted a little, and some hair draped over her eyes.

Clara then brushed it back. She wasn't sure why she did the motherly deed; maybe Clara felt a need to be kind to this little half-asleep brat.

Slowly, almost unnoticeably, Ciel opened up one eye to stare up at Clara. Gold meet gold. In a tone, that seemed much too mature for her age, Ciel opened her mouth, "Tante Clara, did my mama love me?"

Her words put an arrow through Clara's heart.

_How could she… why would she think…_

"W-why do you ask that?" Clara forced through a trembling lips, covered by her hand. Clara could feel hot tears threatening to show their selves behind her eyes.

"I was thinking…" Ciel began to explain, sleepiness back in her voice, "Most kids my age still have their mama. And, they seem to love each other a lot because they've been together a long time. And since my mama hasn't been with me as long… maybe she don't love me as much as the other kid's parent's do?"

"No, no, no!" Clara rushed to sit beside Ciel on the bed, "She loves you! She loves you so much, you don't even know!"

Ciel gave her aunt a disbelieving look, "She barely knew me. I don't even know what she looks like." Her voice was poisonous. With that said, Ciel turned away from Clara to face the wall, not saying anything.

Clara was stunned into silence. How knew a young child was keeping such painful thoughts inside her? Of course Noel loved Ciel! There's undeniable proof…

"Ciel." Clara called to her niece, who was still giving her the cold shoulder. Clara huffed as she forcibly rolled Ciel to face her; her face was streaked with silent tears. She was red with anger. Her eyes were filled with sorrow. "For no reason." Clara thought.

"Your name, your mom named you." Clara told her niece with a soft smile, "She named you after the sky. The sky is for forever, and it's beautiful and free, it's the one thing Noel was always looking at. It's something that's holy to her. She put a lot of love just in your name. She loved you, with every ounce of her body. I know. And now you know it too."

Ciel was silent and still for a moment, before breaking into a wide smile. "Really?"

Clara smiled back, and said with finality, "Really. Now, go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ciel, still smiling to herself, rolled back into bed. The atmosphere of the room seemed to be light and happy. How it's supposed to be for a seven-year-old.

Clara walked silently on the stairs to where the Yammamotos were, said her thanks, and left.

It stopped raining by now, and the fresh scent of washed earth meets Clara's senses as soon as she opened the door and took a step outside. Little puddles were everywhere, but it didn't bother the maid as she walked through dampened streets.

Clara walked briskly towards the hotel, but then slowed down. Feeling a sort of… tug towards the sky, she looked up. Up there, all alone in the big black forever was a pale moon.

"The sky." Clara thought, "The one thing Noel always admired. Elle sera toujours l'amour du Ciel… toujours." She was so always so brave…

"And you admire her, even though she was a Laforet?" a new voice cut into her line of thought.

Clara turned behind her to see Christopher, wearing a brand new suit, and his everlasting youth. His immortality. She also saw his golden eyes, the ones she shares with him. Those eyes that represent a bond, a connection that will exist for as long as Clara will live.

That where Clara and Christopher differ in person, but are alike because of family. But Noel…

"She wasn't really. She married into it." Clara defended Noel.

"I will never understand how you can care so much about a dead person. Or maybe, immortality has made me cruel and insensitive?" Christopher said in such a tone, it was impossible to tell if he was joking or not.

Either way, Clara didn't find it funny. "Why are you here? I thought you were going to leave." Clara asked quicker than she meant to.

"Eager to get rid of me, now are ya? I just want to ask some questions. Oh, and they're not about Noel or anything like that." Christopher added the last part lazily, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

Clara, the ever-suspicious, raised an eyebrow at her uncle. "What is it then?"

"Why did you lie?" Christopher's face gave nothing away of what he was feeling. It was almost like he really was just asking a question, but Clara was sure there was something he wanted. But, alas, his question didn't even make sense to her.

"Lie about what?" Clara started walking again to hurry back to a bed, Christopher walking at her side.

"Your name. You changed your name to Du Vale." Christopher commented.

Clara gave a dry laugh. "It's not fair, you know. You don't share his name, yet you're in the Laforet family too. Do you have any idea what I would do to make my birth name 'Red'?" she held a grim, fake smile.

Christopher Chareau de Red didn't find Clara's smile endearing at all, as he snapped back at her.

"You can't hide who you are! You're entire being is proof of that. Haven't you looked in a mirror lately? _You look exactly like Huey_. I know how much you hate him, but he is your biological father. I'm homunculi, created by Huey. There is nothing in this world that can tell you otherwise."

Clara was silent the entire time, but her face was furious, and her fists clutched tightly.

"You're a coward, my young, young Niece. You can't even say a word against him. You can't even open up your mouth and tell me off when we're all alone." Christopher said cruelly.

"If you came here to just insult me, I think that you need to-" Christopher's hand covered Clara's mouth. Her face went shocked at the action for a moment, before turning angry again.

"I'm not trying to insult you. I'm sorry that I said that. I'm really trying to help you." Clara suddenly snorted against Christopher's hand, "You haven't been living a happy life, and neither will Ciel. Ciel is the one who will suffer the most, she doesn't understand what's going on yet, but, one day she will. Don't you think it's time to find someone, who can really care for her? You won't live too long anyway…"

If Clara was anymore tired, she would say she saw sadness in Christopher's evil-looking red, yellow and black eyes. Clara, stunned into silence for the second time in one just fifteen minutes, was left staring blankly as Christopher took his hand off of Clara's mouth and walked away.

He made it halfway down a dimmed street, before disappearing in plain sight. Like he was never even there to begin with.

Feeling like it was all a dream, Clara slowly turned her back, realizing that she and Christopher stopped walking a while. But, somehow, she was less than a foot away from the hotel's front door.

"That had to be a dream then. There's no way you walk a few steps and end up across town. I'm sleep walking… I must be crazy…" Clara told herself silently.

The automatic doors of the hotel were forced open by a senor under Clara's feet, letting a warm, scented breeze embrace Clara's cold body.

Numbly, Clara made it to the elevator. She got to her floor, knocked on the room door and Fran let her in, her eyes straight forward the entire time. Once inside, it was evident that Squalo broke two more decorative vases. She cleaned them in silence, and announced to Xanxus that she was going to bed. He let her, taking a bid swig of Scotch.

Clara nodded, and collapsed on her bed, not moving one bit.

"He's right. He's absolutely right." She thought.

Christopher gave Clara 'du Vale' Laforet, a lot to think about, as she struggled to fall asleep.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Author's Notes- FORTH CHAPTER- DONE! WITH AN ACTUAL PLOT RISING! I'm so sorry that it's so short this time :'(**

**Yeah, I'm trying to hurry up and get Tsuna and co. and the Ouran people in the story, but the Varia seem to be swallowing everything Clara and Ciel are doing! The Ouran people and Tsuna and co. will be in here, and be a huge part of the plot, I promise! Please just be patient with me! **

**GAH THE CHAPTERS KEEP GETTING SHORTER! NO!**

**Also~ is there anyone you want to end up with Clara? Yammamoto, Xanxus, Bel, Squalo, Tsuna, Tamaki…- EVERYONE IS UP FOR GAME! :D (Do you even want OCxCanon?)**

**OMFG GUESS WHUT? I realized what a stereotypical French name Clara du Vale is! Haha!**

**Oh, by the way, sometimes (on a good day) I'll write a chapter with 9-12 thousand words in one or two days. But, it may take three or more days for me to edit, so I can't be as quick as I want to be all the time, but I really do update as soon as I can.**

**Note~: PLEASE TELL ME RIGHT NOW, IS ANY CHARACTER OCC! I'm trying hard to keep everyone in character, and I feel Xanxus is waaaaaay out of character! (He should have shot Clara by now, seriously!) And everyone else? Are there any Varia members that are making you wonder; "Is that even him!"? If you tell me, I'll fix it!**

**Note no.2~ I'm sorry for using French so much, I am learning to speak it, and I'm not terrible. I can carry a decent conversation with a French person that doesn't speak a lick of English! And I'm very proud of that! If you're wondering, that's why Clara is related to Huey, and not some other Baccano! Character. I just want to share my knowledge with all you good people~**

**Questions, comments and suggestions will be read and responded to… if you REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter Cinq

**-LOVE, PEACE & WAR-**

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_It seems like immortality is real. And, immortal life is possible._

_Furthermore, the frantic hunt and protection over the secret of immortality continues today- chaotically, violently, and all around the world, and yet absolutely shrouded in mystery inside the silhouetted world of the Mafia._

_But amidst the maddening 300 hundred-year-old secret conflict, some of the immortal Alchemists from 1711 Europe are up to no-good with their own personal demons and corrupted agendas during their time watching the all corners of the world around them, especially the parts shrouded by mystery, change drastically._

By: chibigurl305

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

_"Counting all the assholes in the room, _

_Well I'm definitely not alone, well I'm not alone _

_You're a liar, you're a cheater, you're a fool _

_Well that's just like me, yoohoo, and I know you too…"_

_Still Counting _**By: Volbeat**

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Chapter 5- In Which the Immortal Reflect on Life Unhappily**

_ "I don't understand why the Prince can't slaughter all the stupid rich kids! They're not even royalty, so there money and blood should be mine to spill."_

"Eeeeeegh…" Clara maoned.

_"HEY, YOU DAMN SHITTY BOSS! Who's gonna drive the stupid maid to school!"_

_"I'll do it if you need me to, Boss!"_

_"Only for a hundred thousand euros."_

_"I'm busy~"_

_"No way, Shark-sempai."_

_"Do it yourself, fucking trash."_

"Augggggggggh!" Clara half exclaimed and half groaned as she listened to her bosses make a ridiculous amount of noise in the morning. And by yelling at each other too. **_Why?_**

But the shouting suficed as an effectice subtitute alarm clock, and Clara was on her feet only minutes after she woke up.

"But which is better, Italian terrorists or spoiled Japanese teenagers?" Clara quieried out loud while putting on a hideous yellow dress that claims to be a sensible school uniform. (And it's seriously the female High school uniform for an elite school too.)

"Sensible my French butt!" Clara snorted. This… _thing_ looks like it could choke people to death! And that's **_not_** coming from the Varia-influence!

The hatred for this dress is, in fact, coming from Clara's re-awakening fashion sense that has been dormant for many, many years.

Thank you, Lussuria for hepling Clara hate this dress that she must wear for an unknown amount of time.

But, this is for the mission Clara is supposed to do. Even though no one told her about it until last night. And the fact that this SPYING mission is given to CLARA who's NOT A SPY.

Other than that, the maid has no complaints. Not at all.

"Maid, we all _know_ that's not true at all." Mammon was suddenly behind Clara… reading her mind, apparently.

Clara did the normal reaction, jumped and turned around in attempt to swat the baby.

(AN: Causion, do not swat at babies in real life.)

Mammon replied to Clara in a violent reaction by flipping the maid's body backwards with a slap on her stomach by a blue, creepy tentacle. Clara landed on her back with a thud. And it hurt, if you must know.

The wind was slightly knocked out of her, Clara looked up to see Mammon still foating there in an expecting manner.

"Okay, I'll be ready it a few minutes…" Clara wheezed out, feeling a brise on her ribs forming and began to peel herself off the floor.

Mammon made a (cute) baby-ish 'Hmph" sound and floated back to the main part of the gigantic hotel room.

"Why do evil babies like Mammon even exist? Does his own mother even love him?" Clara couldn't help but wonder.

Mammon's aura that was still sensible through walls, aparently, seemed to darken just that much more as soon as Clara had that thought.

Clara ignored the demon-baby and made it to the kitchen of the fancy hotel where Lussuria was wearing a woman's apron and humming girlishly.

The flamboyant Assassin placed a plate of french-style omletes on a spot at the table. (Not Xanxus's extremely expensive gold-lined table, the one of the regular spot where everyone else eats at.)

Clara only got a taste of the freakin' delcious omlete (if Lussuria didn't cook well, we all know what would happen to him anyway) before Lussuira pranced (yes, pranced) towards her spot at the table. Clara eyes him with exprectaion and slight confusion.

"Oh Clara-chan! I feel like a really mama, with you going to school and all!" Lussuria squealed, his balled up fists close to his chest like a love-struck school girl. "And in a Japanese Uniform too!"

Squalo sent a glare and a early-mornin induced 'Fucking homos!' towards the Homo-assassin with a lauging Bel who stabbed the wall in front of him with yet another knife from that stash of knives that JUST NEVER ENDS.

Lussuira pouted at the two for a moment, before setting his gaze on Clara again.

"Little Ciel-baby called early this morning to say hi Clara-chan~" Lussuira notified the maid, who in turn choked on her omlete.

The bite of omlette that was in Clara's mouth fell back on her plate as her eyes showed nothing but OMG!

"How did she get your guys' number? Isn't that supposed to be a huge secret?" Clara started to feel like the Varia's security went down recently…

"Well, little Ciel has a cell phone, and I put my number in her phone so we can stay connected. I wouldn't leave my own daughter without some sort of safety-line." Lussuria held out his… pink cell phone in front of Clara's face and had a big smile on his. As if he just invented sliced bread or something.

Clara _totally_ could of thought of that, being in touch with Ciel whom she left at stranger's reesidence for the night. Clara was just… busy.

"At least we have contact with her." Clara said with a small smile, "But I'm more excited about today."

"You're excited about the mission? I thought you didn't want to go!" Lussuria excliamed, seating himself next to Clara who shoveled another piece of omlete in her mouth before answering.

"Its good to have a change of scenery. _Ouran is an elite school_. I've never got to go to lavish things because of the stupid mistakes I made." Clara admitted to Lussuria with her pride stinging a bit;

But honestly, drop out of school, you're going to have to pay the price. By being a maid for crazy rich Italian Terrorists. Clara knows this to be all so very true. And frankly, she has no choice. (Well actually, Clara is qualified to be a postitute and a drug delivery girl, but she'd rather stick to _these_ crazy people over _those_ crazy people.)

"Stop complaining, you stupid Maid." Squalo shouted in his usual Banchee-volume from across the table, even though the space between Clara and Lussuria and Squalo was less than two feet.

A ringing went off in Clara's ear, signalling the death of precious probbaly very important ear parts in her head. 'Thank you, Squalo' Claar thought.

"Alright." Clara said, and added in her head with a certain amount of venom, "I'll still insult you inside my head, stupid grandpa-shark."

Squalo snorted at Clara's 'obedience' and rose from his seat.

"C'mon maid, get ready so we can get this over with before we kill the Tenth Vongola canidate." Squalo was already at the door leading to the elevator that was exclusive to their Hotel suite.

"Those poor kids." Clara sympthized for those poor, unfortunate Mafioso as she handed the empty plate to Lussuira, who waved back to Squalo. (He was ignored.)

Those kids have no idea who they're going against.

Clara grabbed the bag that the Varia prepared before they left Italy, and headed towards the elevator where Squalo was waiting impatiently.

"They deserve it." Squalo said evenly, though in his usual volume, making Clara wince when she got inside the elevator.

"Well that's not very nice," Clara thought (hypocritcally, Clara is just as mean as Squalo), "They'll be deaf before they even die, with you around. Squalo, how cruel art thou?"

However, in response to the white-haired shark, Clara merely shrugged in reponse to the white-haired man, not feeling that remorseful for the condemned.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

It was a very, very, very loud fancy-black-limo ride to Ouran Academy.

Mostly because of Squalo… actually, it was _all_ because of Squalo. Even more so for Clara, since she's sitting right across from him within limited space.

"That stupid shitty boss is being fucking retarded! How the hell am I supposed to get his fucking chair on top of buildings in just a few minutes? That's im-fucking-possible! Not to mention that cocky shit-for-brains Bel keeps running up all the fucking bills **_I pay for_** with all those god damn knives stuck all over the fucking place..."

Clara couldn't believe you could fit THAT MANY curse worlds in just a few sentences… strangely; Clara has a newfound respect for Squalo's profound knowledge in language. And not to mention using words in a language that's not his first too, since the Varia has been speaking Japanese ever since they got here, the reason being that it's a rule for Assassins or something like that. She wasn't sure, after all Clara isn't _that _tragically bored during the day that she eavesdrops on her bosses _all _the time.

"And that greedy little bastard Mammon keeps complaining about those bills to me! TO ME! If he really wanted lower bills, he should just force the shitty brat to stop throwing knives all over the place!"

Clara was beginning to understand part of Xanxus's constant rage. If Clara had to listen to this all night and day, she'd be crazier than Bel. But, this is temporary, so the Maid can handle this.

Defiantly.

"And that big-ass bastard Levi keeps on complaining that you're useless! I know you're useless, but I deal with you anyway! Why is that fat fucker always trying to fuck me over!"

Clara ignored Squalo's insult, because his idea of a useful person is someone who curses as much as himself, and or people who kill as much as he does. Really, Clara is just not that kind of person.

There is just no pleasing this man.

Insert fist under her chin, Clara's ears are beginning to shrivel up, and boredom is taking over in the Maid's mind.

Then all of the sudden, Clara heard a sound of water spilling. Leaning to the side to see over Squalo's yelling head, Clara noticed the chauffeur was sweating uncontrollably and trying to take a glass of water to his lips. (Clara thought that this wasn't a good idea for a person who was driving, but dismissed the thought.)

Clara almost laughed at the poor man, when she noticed he was shaking so much he spilt water on himself. Clara's pride is too much to show fear in front of the Varia (physically.)

"And I hate Japan! Everyone is too god-damn short! And you should know all about that, stupid French maid." Squalo yelled in exasperation, waving his fist every once in a while.

"I'm not that short, Squalo. You're just too tall." Clara supplied to Squalo's fiery surplus of yelling.

"Trust me, maid, you're pretty fucking midget-y." Squalo rolled his eyes.

Clara rolled her eyes right back at the man, who in turn opened his mouth to yell again, when the chauffeur's shaking voice spoke up, his voice frightened and shrill, as if this was the last second of his life; "W-we're here, s-s-sir!" he squeaked.

Squalo closed his mouth and turned his head to the side to looks at the school. He had a sudden look of horror and disgust.

"_Holy-mother fucking- pink!_" Squalo gaped, his eyes wide with shock or disbelief; Clara couldn't tell.

Curious on what made Squalo actually shut-up for a while, she looked out the same window Squalo did. Then, and only then, did she understand.

"P-p-pi-pink!" was the only response Clara could get out of her gaping mouth. Pink towers. Pink doors. Pink… _everything_. And the… pretty periwinkle boy's uniform and bright sunshine-yellow girl's uniform didn't help distill the fairy-tale theme this pretty-pink school had.

And while Clara was still in pink school-shock, Squalo took this opportunity to open the door on Clara's side and shove her out, making her fall on something; but with her face on the floor, the Maid really couldn't tell what.

"Don't fuck up!" Squalo shouted to the ground where Clara lay before the limo speed off away from the pink-ness that must have somehow damaged this man-assassin-shark, mentally.

"What was the point of Squalo was coming with me to school anyway?" Clara thought out loud, too lost in confusion and annoyance to think of feel anything else. (Really, Clara could have walked.)

"Um, excuse me?" a light voice interrupted Clara from her moment.

Clara looked down to see a young brunette boy pinned to the ground by her body.

"Oh god, sorry!" Clara said getting up immediately and offering a hand for the boy. He politely declined.

The boy looked at the girl to thank her, but he didn't recognize her at all.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to be new here or something, would you?" he asked Clara.

Clara blinked her golden eyes, and responded, "Yeah, I am…" Clara trailed off as Clara got a good look at him.

He was an admittedly good looking teen. A little scrawny, but definitely cute.

"Oh god, he's in high school! I'm having pedophilic thoughts! I HATE YOU LUSSURIA!" Clara panicked slightly. She paled and her eyes were far away in her sudden state of depression.

The boy seemed to be alarmed by Clara's sudden change in demeanor, "Hey! Are you alright?"

Clara, still mope-y, answered dully, "Yeah, sure kid."

The boy quirked his eyebrows at the response, but decided that there were much weirder people in the world.

"You know, I could show you around if you want." The boy offered with a small, helpful smile.

Directions. Class. School. Clara kinda, sort of, forgot about that.

"Yeah, thank you… Um…" Clara wished he was a butler or something, so he could have a name tag. Those things are so helpful!

The boy seemed to be ahead of her in many, many ways.

"My name is Haruhi. Yours?" the boy introduced himself as he started to walk into the gates, Clara in tow.

"I'm Clara." She smiled brightly at the boy. The boy paused for a moment, as if to memorize Clara's foreign name, before walking again towards a big (pink) door in what looks like the front of the school. (Clara can't really tell, because she was staring in shock at the flowers and the sheer amount of pink and girlie students everywhere.)

And, it was then when Clara realized something-

She is in school. She is twenty-two years old. And she's going to be acting like a school girl to a bunch of teenagers. What if some guy hits on her?

Ew.

So 'ew' in fact, Clara is going to ignore that last thought.

Clara also tried to ignore the stares and murmurs from the student body, crowding away from her like Clara was some sort of wild animal. (It just seems like rich people can tell when a person doesn't have money, doesn't it?)

Every once in a while, Clara would hear a voice that was louder than the rest of the bunch;

_Is that the new student?_

_I hear she's French! I wonder if she's related to 'the prince!'_

_Her eyes look so weird…_

The first comment didn't concern Clara, because she really is (even though Clara shouldn't be legally allowed unto the school).The second comments only confused Clara slightly, wondering if there really was royalty at this school ('that would be kind of neat,' Clara thought.). That last comment made her mad.

It is _not_ her fault that she was born into the Laforet. She was neither a wanted nor loved child, so these Ouran students can stick it into their sushi and choke on it.

But eventually, the students turned back to their devices and conversation, much to Clara's relief.

Being somewhere you're not supposed to, and having the people stare at you is nothing short of nerve-racking.

Weird thing is, the boy didn't seem to notice all the stares and murmurs. It's like he's used to it or something.

Haruhi and Clara finally made it to the principal's office, and Clara tried to go in. (Clara couldn't read Japanese, but she could tell by the shadow of a large desk behind dusted glass that the principal was inside.)

But, the keyword is 'tried'. Haruhi stuck his arm out, his hand on the other side of the doorway, to keep Clara from getting through the door.

"Ok, I'll wait for you down the hall. Go get your schedule really fast, and I'll be waiting for you down there to show you around," Haruhi pointed an arm down a hallway that he and Clara just walked through.

"Why do you need to wait, Haruhi?" Clara asked with an eyebrow raised.

Haruhi suddenly appeared disgruntled as he tried to explain. "Well, you see… Oof!"

The boy's explanation was cut off when a blonde man in a grey pin stripe suit slammed the Principal's office open. Much to Clara's confusion, the elder man enveloped Haruhi is a great big bear-hug.

"Principal Souh! Arugh!"

"Good morning Haruhi-chan!"

Somehow, Clara's moral respect for the Principal went down. Really, she has no idea _why_. He seems like a professional man, full of moral-goodness.

"Gah! Mr. Souh, let go of me! I can't breathe!"

"Can't a principal hug his cute students?"

Nope, Clara has no idea why she wouldn't respect him.

Clara was in fact _so impressed_; she began walking away in quiet tip-toe steps.

"_I'm sorry Xanxus, but these weird Japanese people are just too much. So, I am running away to Africa. Good bye forever. And good luck being Vongola Boss." _Clara imagined her resignation to look something like that, if not more dramatic. Clara is absolutely positive that the more dramatic, the better. Maybe the Varia will mistake it as a farewell-from-life instead of a job resignation note and not try to find her.

She also hoped it would be nice weather in Morocco. "They speak French in that part of Africa anyway," Clara added in her head.

"Oh, who is this?" a masculine voice coming from behind Clara broke her from her thoughts.

Slowly turning around, she saw the huggy Principal was looking right at her. Right when Clara was going to cross the hallway and be completely out of sight. Dang it…

"'Ello, Monsieur." Clara waved awkwardly and still keeping her distance, not knowing what to say.

The principal was still holding Haruhi in his arms. Clara had nothing against gays (except Lussuria) but pedophilia is pedophilia.

Clara then wondered if she told Mammon about this, Mammon would give a decent percentage of the money after the lawsuit and trial is over. Probably not.

"Ah, you're French! I love French people," the principal didn't release Haruhi from his arms when he put his free arm around Clara, who immediately flinched.

For the sake of her own confidence in the human race, Clara convinced herself that this was punishment for dropping out of school. It just had to be.

"Gah! I don't have any money!" was Clara's immediate response to contact with the suited man.

Being around the Mafia really does a number on the way you think…

Although Clara's face was neutral, like always, she struggled against the principal's grip as he began to babble on… and if Clara was crazy, she would have sworn is sounded like he was flirting with Haruhi AND Clara.

But professional principals of elite schools don't show sexual appetite in a school so casually, right?

Right.

"Souh-sama, we really need to go! Clara needs to know where he classes are, right?" Haruhi tried to reason with the man, who let out a groan and let the two students go.

Clara gave the man a harsh glare, as she smoothed the wrinkled and ruffles in her ugly yellow school uniform. Why Clara began to even care what she looks like when she already looks like an obese banana when wearing this stupid dress, is simply beyond her understanding.

Clara was so distracted for so long that Haruhi seemed to have talked the principal into a good-bye.

The pedophilic principal saw Haruhi and Clara off, and the two were making their way through the school.

And the maid-in-disguise stressed every second of it.

This school reminds Clara A LOT of the Varia Castle.

There was large and towering walls, dramatic arches, long and wide elegant stair ways, crisp and clean colored carpets and decorative rugs sprawled tastefully where students may slip on the smooth and reflective white marble floor, giving the school a classy and safe air of sense and makes it feel you're in a castle built for royalty rather than a school.

Yupp, just as fancy as the Varia Castle… with the actual sense of comfort and 'I probably won't die in this place' vibe.

Call it stupid instincts or force of habit from working so hard, Clara has the urge to be around alcohol and clean the floors- Which is definitely not normal for a high school student, at least for one in this school.

"I'm going to be maid forever. By cruel fate. By the force of habit my own life has imprinted upon thyself." Clara thought melodramatically.

"…Come here now…" A voice said.

Clara blinked, now out of her thoughts, and lifted her head back into place.

"What? Did you say something?" the confusion on Clara's face was evident.

"Yeah, space-cadet. I asked you, 'why did you come here now instead of earlier in the year." Haruhi's intense brown eyes were on Clara, and Clara felt a bit in awe.

His eyes had a surprisingly beautiful quality to them; deep and sure as waterless wells, and as warm and open as a meadow on a spring day. And last time Clara checked, she can barely even read poetry.

Clara took a moment to reply, trying to separate Squalo yelling because he was annoyed, and when he actually told Clara about the mission, "My family's business moved from Italy…"

"… But you have a French accent." Haruhi stated with a cocked eyebrow.

"DAMNIT SQAULO! I'M NOT ITALIAN LIKE YOU! YOUR STORY MAKING SKILLS SUCK!" Clara screamed in her mind as she clenched her fist in anger at the situation at hand.

If you can't tell, Clara doesn't take graciously to stress.

"I just moved to Italy, from France." Was Clara's lame lie, because that stupid Squalo forced her to make one up at the last minute! Urgh!

Haruhi seemed to brush it off completely, however; "Oh, okay. Is Europe nice this time of year?"

Clara deadpanned. This boy… is really dense…

"Yeah, colder than Japan, but still nice." Clara said quickly when she realized that some time passed before she even responded.

The two began conversing, Clara began to like Haruhi. He's such a nice kid.

And while walking through the exuberant halls of Ouran Academy, Clara couldn't help but to wonder if the ENTIRE school was pink or not. What if there was a 'Pink day' at this school?

The thought… is a bit disturbing…

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

In the clean, delinquent-less classrooms of Namimori middle school, a brunette boy sat, bored out of his mind, in a grey seat.

The teacher droned on about things he didn't really care about, and Tsuna, the boy, could see his friend Yammamoto fast asleep on top of his Geometry book.

Tsuna's other friend also looked rather bored with the lesson too. Maybe it's because the hot-blooded teenage bomber already knows this. (How does a boy that spent his days with a Mafia get so much Book smarts?)

No wait- Tsuna should be scared of his mind, not bored!

An assassination team with what may be the scariest person Tsuna ever meet just demanded the poor boy to fight him, and Tsuna's friends against his men for the title of Vongola Decimo Boss.

Not only does Tsuna REALLY not want anything to do with the Mafia, but he could have sworn he saw a real aura of death around Xanxus…. Xanxus, what a scary guy!

Tsuna thunked his head against his desk in exasperation. "I'm doomed!" he muttered.

Gokudera immediately rushed from his desk, to his boss's (and damn nearly stepped on a few people) and with eyes full of determination.

"Juudiame! If this teacher is boring you, just tell me and I'll blow him up!" the white haired, Tsuna-enthusiast announced proudly.

Through Tsuna's panicked scream, he detected 'Ha-ha, Gokudera takes his games really seriously huh?' in an all-too familiar voice.

"WHAT? I-I'm sorry Tsuna!" the male Math teacher screeched, holding a textbook to shield himself from the evil glare and aura emitting from Gokudera.

"G-Gokudera-kun…" Tsuna's eyebrow twitched slightly as he tried to coax the taller teen to not kill to the teacher.

Gokudera took one look at Tsuna, and turned back to the unfortunate math teacher. "You're a damn lucky man." and walked back to his seat.

The entire class sweat-dropped.

After a few stutters, the math teacher started the class back up again, and Tsuna returned to his thoughts- even though the boy knows Reborn will hurt him later for not knowing the material his math teacher was droning on about.

Tsuna doesn't want to have his friends hurt. Tsuna doesn't want to die. _Tsuna doesn't want his friends to die_.

"What… what do I do?" Tsuna clutched his hair, eyes wide with terror.

Unknown to him, Reborn was watching Tsuna with a frown on his face.

"You need to fight, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn loaded Dying Will Bullets into his suit pockets, "Or else everyone will pay for it."

Reborn clicked the safety of his gun off (for once) and prepared new training for this wimpy Mafia Don, a smirk slowly forming on his tiny babyish lips.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

Christopher sat alone in a gloomy bar outside Tokyo, conpensating on his thoughts; life, and himself… thought that shouldn't need

He knew what he was.

He is a human-made Humunculus who killed whoever his creator directed. No god. No mercy. No hope.

And that's how life is.

Christopher was very sure of his life, as he remembers stepping over a man's body. He was bleeding, but still concious. Still begging for life.

Christopher paid no attention to the nearly dead man that day, or whenever he killed. Why should he? They are not of the same race. He hs no orders to fufill. He has no creator. They are not alike in anyway.

Christopher also remembers sawing off a head of a particular man who laid in a chrimson heap of other dead man (save for the one still clinging to life). Huey needed that bounty money.

And besdies, Christopher felt no sympathy for Mafioso. Or, in humans in general.

They were useless. They had life to damn easy. They were ignorant, naïve and oblivious sorry excuses for a race of intelligent beings.

Christopher gripped his glass full of sake, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The smell of this bar was getting to him; too much open boos and too much perfume/cologne.

He longed to be outside, in nature- One of the few things Christopher loved. They had every right to exist, but humans just cut down and kill them.

Christopher loved the world, and life- he really did. But it's shocking what happens to people's morals, over the course of ninety years. But it doesn't really matter too much, since every person on Earth (save for a select few) will die before Christopher.

And Christopher doesn't give a damn if they die.

Not even that kid, Ciel. She is destined for death, and one that won't be happy.

Christopher gathered a few people's attention as he gave a dry laugh into the melancholy atmosphere of the bar.

'_When you're a Laforet, you never get into heaven. After all, why would god protect something he didn't create?_' Christopher thought with venom.

No one is sure what exactly happens when someone from the Laforet family dies, but it's either walking the ends of the earth as a spirit for eternity, or hell.

This is exactly why Christopher fought so hard in the thirties' to find the Immortality Elixir and drink it. He killed a few innocent people, ruined lives, but he got what he wanted in the end.

But, lately his will to be alive has been thoroughly tested by this new era of people.

It's almost like its' not worth being alive, in this boring world.

At least it was boring, until that bastard Huey's roots sank into the most powerful Mafia family, that's currently on the brink of self-destruction.

Things finally became less boring for being an immortal.

But, the excitement has a string attached- Clara.

Christopher has an unusual past with the girl. Maybe it's because she looks exactly like _her_. It's almost like her face is mocking Christopher.

Maybe that's why he couldn't bring himself to hate her, why he helped her.

Of course, she's still angry at Christopher- any person would be angry for what he did to her.

Christopher's golden irises, surrounded by blood red, glanced upwards behind sunglasses.

Through the sudden rush of emotions, Christopher became hyper aware of the scratchy, aged wood under his arms, the darkness in the room, the hymn the bartender was humming, the conversation in the background.

A sudden surge of human feeling rushed through his immortal body as he remembered the day, vividly-

_Eight-year-old Clara was in the back of a Jeep, and Christopher was driving. _

_The man had a grim look on his face, as he periodically looked up to the rear-view mirror to watch Clara slowly fall asleep. Her barely open golden eyes held innocence and obviliousness, and conversely the unnatrual color of her eyes gave promise to a very unhappy life._

_Christopher picked her up from Seatle and has been driving her to Arizona, but has taken a 'side stop' to drive amongst the Rocky Mountian range. He was near the top of the mountains, just five thousand feet above sea level._

_His mind flooded with guilt and anxiety, as he gripped the steering wheel with shaking white knuckles._

_Clara was extremely tired, considering she didn't sleep well in cars and has been awake for as long as Christopher has been driving. For how long- 30 minutes or several hours past her bedtime- Clara's young mind that could barely grasp the exsistance of time was not sure._

_And despite her exhaustion, she sat up. She noticed her uncle Christopher looked very unhappy. She wasn't sure why, but he was. So, Clara decided to cheer him up._

_"Uncle Christopher, you wanna play a game?" she asked in her high pitched voice. She had a light, sleepy smile on her face._

_Christopher saw that she was now awake, and cursed under his breath. He didn't answer Clara, and kept his eyes firmly locked on the road._

_Now confused, Clara huffed and leaned forward in her seat to grab Christopher's suit._

_"Christopher! What's wrong?" she asked, her large eyes unblinking._

_'I could ask myself the same thing, brat.' Christopher thought sourly._

_Gathering his nerves, her jerked the steering wheel right knocking Clara sideways onto her seat, opened the door on his left and jumped out of the car and onto the empty down-hill mountian road._

_Clara's eye widened as she stood on her knees in the Jeep, staring back at Christopher who just got up and was brushing dirt off his pants. _

_Absoluetlely puzzled and the words struggling to form on her tongue, Clara only stared in silence at her uncle's shrinking form as the Jeep speed along._

_Sudden jerky movements inside the Jeep made Clara realize that no one was driving the car, which was grinding against railing against the side of the mountain._

_Clara, unsure what to do, she unbuckled her seat belt and tried to try driivng like adults do. She reached her little arms to the steering wheel, but was ripped away as the railing suddenly stopped, and the Jeep flew off the side of the mountian._

_The force of the fall threw Clara to the roof of the car, her mouth open in silent scream. Everything in the car was either floating, or on the roof like Clara. The room inside of the car was weightless._

_Then, everything came crashing down in second. Clara's body was ragdolled througout the car. The stickshift was like club against her face, the broken glass from the crushed car scratched her eight-year-old body in every direction._

_Clara tried to grab onto a head rest of the front seat, but the Jeep suddenly turned upsidedown, ripping her fist away from the headrest and tearing a tendon in her arm._

_Clara couldn't scream, as she was thrown against things and inside the car, knocking the breathe and terror-filled scream out of her._

_Everytime the Jeep jumped up, it crashed down, throwing everything and Clara around in a turmoil car-crash down the mountain._

_The car twisted and tumbled at least thirteen times before reaching the bottom, and somewhere during that time, Clara scratched buised and broken body flew out and landed on hard ground, the jeep crashed one more time right in front of her. The Jeep landed on its licence plate, and creaked sligtly before dropping, stirring dust and dirt, the opposite direction where Clara's crumpled body lay. _

_Clara felt excrudicating pain in her leg. Her arm was bent in a funny way, a way Clara never saw another person's arm bent. She felt as if little pieces of glass were inside her body, little did Clara know that was actually her broken ribs._

_Air rushed back into Clara's broken lungs, and before she could scream, cry or whimper, the pain knocked her out._

_Above, Christopher whitnessed half of the crash with a blank expression, and angry eyes._

_Christopher only wanted to prove to Huey and to himself that Clara meant nothing to him. And now he found his answer, staring down a car wekage with nothing but guilt in his heart._

_'Take the girl to the mountains, ditch the car with her inside and let the police think she took the car for a joy ride.' Huey's cold, golden eyes mocked Christopher's inner turmoil._

_"She's dead." Christopher whispered, not completely believing himself. "And I did it."_

_Why, of the hundred of people Christopher killed- men, wemen and children- does he feel guilty?_

_Christopher could do nothing more than give an empty stare at the wreckage, and little Clara's broken, bloody body._

_After a few minutes, a plain black car showed and stopped. A door opened by itself. Without ever looking at the car, Christopher turned on his heel and climbed into the vehicle._

_And as the car drove down the mountain, Christopher imagined falling for as long as the car was driven. Never in Christopher's life, has he ever felt so empty._

But, a miracle happened. Two hikers found Clara, took her to the hospital, thus saving her life.

None of Clara's injuries ripped off any body parts or do permentant nerval damage, so in time she healed. Most, if not all of the scars of that incident faded into Clara's skin, leaving behind tougher skin. But, the memory of her dear uncle Christopher betraying her left a big, ugly yet invisible scar on Clara.

Christopher sees it. He sees it whenever he looks Clara in the eyes.

Scowling, he pushes his drink aside, slams down the money he owes the bartender, and walked out of the gloomy bar. The sunlight burns his unatural eyes, yet he keeps on walking.

**X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X**

**Author's Notes- FIFTH CHAPTER- DONE! I KNOW IT'S A LOT SHORTER THAN THE OTHER CHAPTERS! (For some reason, I only seem to want to write depressing things, sorry if I ruined your day!)**

**Whoooo! Ouran! You won't be hearing from Clara a lot for a while… Like, for a few chapters it's gonna be pretty much Canon.**

**Also~ is there anyone you want to end up with Clara? Yammamoto, Xanxus, Bel, Squalo, Tsuna, Tamaki…- EVERYONE IS UP FOR GAME! :D (Do you even want OCxCanon in the first place?)**

**Note~: Christopher and Ciel are an important part of the plot, you'll see.**

**Questions, comments and suggestions will be read and responded to… if you REVIEW!**


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